


Ripper:  Fools Journey  1  - Magician/Bateleur

by beccaelizabeth



Series: Ripper:  Fools Journey [3]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-05-04
Updated: 2006-05-03
Packaged: 2017-10-06 07:45:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 23,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beccaelizabeth/pseuds/beccaelizabeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rupert Giles, Andrew Wells, and a situation in a dark house.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Once upon a time, there was to be a series called Ripper.  
> It would star Giles, and it would be about ghosts.  
> Well, I'm still waiting.  
> In the meantime, I figured I'd write it myself.
> 
> I used Tarot cards as inspiration for the 22 episodes, hence 'Fools Journey'. The Fool is card 0. Card 1 of the Major Arcana is The Magician, also known as the Bateleur.
> 
> Spoilers: Post Chosen, post Not Fade Away. Refers to earlier series canon.   
> Ignores the comics.

Giles sheathed his sword, swung it into place behind him, then started running again. Not sprinting, not yet. He was saving that for the home stretch. He covered ground at a steady pace, concentrating on his footing. The oak tree behind him was turning autumnal, the first fallen leaves wet and slippery, but easy enough to avoid so far. The grass, dark green where the long shadows covered it, turned more vivid in the sunlight but no less damp. Recent rain left a chill in the air. Giles breathed steadily, though harder than he'd like. Too much time at a desk. He tried not to think about it, stay cool, and keep running.

Black iron railings closed him in, on his left and now ahead of him. A bit bent and battered, but well maintained and still strong. The rounded arches were about waist high. Giles could jump them, if need be. Instead he turned right.

Now came an obstacle course, heaps of bare earth filled with markers on both sides of him. He dodged between them, not wanting to get mired in the soft earth, or disturb what still lived there. A paved path went out through a gateway to his left, but he crossed it in one step and kept running on the grass. A long curve around one last mound, then the railings closed him in again. Again he turned right.

Now he ran alongside a long herbal border, the plants straggly but tenacious. Their wholesome scents almost overwhelmed the general wet city air. Somewhere in that row was enough variety for most culinary purposes, if you didn't mind what traffic had done to them. In other places more exotic herbs survived. Giles had planted a few of his own, standard magical supplies, carefully labeled. His neighbours hadn't minded, or at least hadn't dug them up. They'd endured his long absence quite well, considering.

The path came up again, and this time Giles turned right along it, and started to sprint for home. Not far to go now. The park was not as long as a football pitch, and only slightly wider. His flat waited for him, half hidden behind the tree. It looked its best this way, warm and welcoming after hard work. The evening sun lit the Bath stone a gentle gold, and the shadows hid where wood and iron could really do with a new coat of paint.

He slowed down when he reached the tree again and got to the gate at a gentle jog, then paused to check for traffic. As usual, under the gleaming windows every parking space was full, but nothing moved. Giles pulled his keys out as he walked across the road, pushed the front door open absently, then took the stairs up to his flat. 2 Oak Tree Place, first floor, or second storey to his American visitors. When he'd moved to Sunnydale he'd found himself a place on another Oak Street, the familiar name feeling closer to home.

The carved face on the lintel watched as he turned both locks then slipped inside before the heat got out. As the door clicked shut behind him he relaxed. The house wards closed along with the wood, and in theory no spell or supernatural being could harm him now. In practice they were likely little more than a magical burglar alarm, alerting him when broken, but they were a comfort nonetheless. The complex runes of their visible component were only conspicuous where they crossed the door. The rest disappeared behind the bookcases, massive oak edifices that covered every bit of wall space, and provided another layer of protection. They were sadly far from full. Most shelves had gaps, scattered spaces between incomplete sets of books. The texts stacked neatly on the desk could have had a shelf to themselves without much rearrangement.

Giles dropped his keys in their bowl, next to the book he'd relabeled '_Doors_'. His sword hung on the coat stand, where it had a lot of company, very little of it outdoor wear. Exercise done for the day, he kicked his slightly muddy shoes onto the rack and got his slippers out, then headed for the kitchen to make tea.

That meant passing the answerphone. Which, sure enough, was blinking again. Giles grimaced and hit the button, then went to put the kettle on.

"_You have one new message._" -_bleep_\- "Uh... hi, Mr Giles... It's me, Andrew... again..."

Giles sighed.

"Are you there?" There was a pause. "Okay, well, it's about those books..."

Giles glanced over at his desk, where two short stacks of books waited for him, the unread pile rather the taller.

"I asked about them last week? You gave them to the Council library, but you took them out again. Are they still available? Because I tried putting a hold on one, but it still isn't in." Andrew hesitated, then went on. "_Ralamborn's Realms_. It's, like, unnatural history, a demon dimension travel guide. See, not many people go those places, so it's pretty rare. The Council only has the one copy."

Giles got slightly guilty now. The books he'd read mostly had 'ghosts' in the title. The unread pile started out with 'spirits', then went on through more obscure connections to those he thought he remembered as useful. _Ralamborn's Realms_ sat at the bottom of the stack, unopened.

"I guess you really need it. Obviously, or you wouldn't have got it out... For like a month... But, well, I wanted to... I mean, I need to look something up." Andrew's tone lost the last vestiges of professional detachment and slipped into his usual wheedling whine. "I know it was yours first, but I'd only need it a little while. Maybe a week. Or overnight loan, even. It's just the one thing. Maybe even one page. Or two, you know, if it's longer..."

Giles stopped feeling guilty and went back to exasperated. Andrew generally had that effect on people.

"Mr Giles? Hello? Are you there?" There were a few more moments of breathing, then a sigh. "You're never there. Okay... well, I'll call you back... Later."

The machine bleeped again and went through its usual routine. "_To delete all messages, press delete_." Giles held a hand over it for a moment, then ignored the thing instead. He had a routine of his own.

Tea, sandwiches and research.

His desk sat in the corner across from the kitchen door, near the window but perpendicular to it. He sat between desk and shelves. That way he got the view out of the main window without putting his back to a door. Only one corner of the desk got direct sunlight, and then only first thing in the morning. The desk had been in the same spot so long that that corner of the green leather was noticeably faded. Another faded patch, in the opposite corner, marked where it once sat in his Father's house.

A green lamp he'd sent back from Sunnydale sat in an unfaded spot, and he lit it now, instead of the main room lights. It was ample to read by.

He was in the middle of something promising in _Percas Postulates on Phantoms_, but he pulled out _Ralamborn's Realms_ first, and flipped to the contents. He ran his finger down the page until he reached chapter 13 – _Realms of the Spirits, or, Heavens and Hells_. That was certainly relevant to his research. He put the book back in the stack, but on top this time. He'd get to it as soon as possible, then get it back to the library.

For tonight, he opened _Percas_ at the marker, then started adding to his notes.

After all, if Andrew really needed it, he knew where Giles lived.

He worked steadily, until he finished his tea. Then he closed his notes again for the night. A longer project such as this required a different discipline to the kind of frantic work to a deadline he'd been doing for so many years with the Slayer. He was easing himself back into it the same way he was with the exercise. Little and often. No sense wearing himself out.

So he relaxed for a couple of hours with some Agatha Christie, a glass of scotch in hand, then retired early to bed.

He was woken by the pounding on the door.

"Mr Giles! Mr Giles!"

He recognised the voice. Andrew. He swore and grabbed his glasses, stumbled out of bed, and unlocked the door.

"Oh Mr Giles, thank God you're home," Andrew greeted him. "You're my only hope. Do you have the book?"

"Book? Which...?"

"_Ralamborn's Realms_. The library said you had it... oh God, you didn't send it back yet, did you?"

"No, it's right here. You need it now?" Giles said, seeing the clock for the first time. Almost four in the morning.

"Yeah. See, it's not really my fault. I found a copy of a page, and it looked like it had everything I'd need on it, only now, it's kind of... stuck."

"Stuck?"

"Not open! Not exactly. Just, still there. We weren't going to go through or anything, I just wanted to take a look."

"At a demon dimension? Because they're known for their views." Giles shook his head and turned, headed for the desk. "So now you have a portal. A half open portal. As if opening the Hellmouth in Sunnydale wasn't enough, now you try and make a new one!" As he spoke Giles assembled what he was going to need. _Ralamborn's Realms_, of course, and something to put it in. His long coat had the largest pockets, and as he'd last worn it down to Devon to see the Coven it still had a few useful ingredients in it.

"Nothing like that, I swear. It's not even a hell place. Just somewhere with demons in it. Probably nice demons," Andrew said.

Giles glared at him.

He'd need a weapon. The sword he'd been practicing with would hang across his back.

"Right. Where is it?"

"You're... coming back with me?"

"Andrew, you're the one who made the mess. I'm hardly going to hand you the book and hope you can figure it out in time."

"I guess. I just meant, like that?"

Andrew looked down. Giles did too.

Perfectly respectable pyjamas, hunter green and actually resembling tai chi clothes. Below that...

Right. Shoes.

Back to the shoe rack for the simplest footwear, wellington boots. As he stepped into them, the key bowl caught his eye, and the book sitting next to it. _Doors_. The single symbol on the cover looked at him sideways, matching the gaze from his lintel. He hesitated, then pocketed the small volume, grabbed the keys, and headed out the door after Andrew.

The journey was far shorter than he expected. In some ways he was thankful. He was seated on the back of a scooter with his arms around Andrew's waist, his coat pulled up and piled on his lap, and the sword poking up behind them. He maintained an expression somewhere between blank and resolute, a face that defied indignity by proclaiming it beneath his notice. He was fairly sure, should anyone be around at 4am on a weeknight, it wouldn't be beneath their notice. Plus weapons were always so hard to explain to the police. So arriving at their destination quickly, without having to use main roads, was a great relief.

However, it did raise some questions.

"You opened a portal in **Bath**?" Giles asked, pulling off his helmet. They only had the one. Andrew had magnanimously offered it to Giles, because if one of them was likely to get hit on the head...

"Well, yeah. It's... nice here." Andrew shrugged, then turned and headed up the pavement.

"It's nice here because nothing in our line ever happens. That's why I **live** here... Oh hang on. Andrew..." He got hold of the boy's arm and turned him around. "You followed me to Bath?"

Andrew sort of shrugged again.

Giles frowned and concluded, "So if you screwed up again I'd be right here to fix it."

"It wasn't like that! I just... I was hoping... You were teaching me. Before. Training me. I thought maybe, you know, if your research doesn't take all your time, we could... do that... again." Andrew trailed off in the face of Giles' glare.

"Andrew, I gave you a few books and some martial arts lessons. It wasn't like I was your Watcher."

"You were my Teacher," Andrew said, clearly adding a capital letter.

"I just taught you enough to stop you being a danger to yourself and others. Or so I thought," Giles replied.

Andrew looked away and looked sullen. "Well I thought we were friends. Guess we were both wrong."

He turned around, pulling out of Giles' grip, and went through a gate up to one of the terrace houses. "It's this way," he said.

Giles sighed and followed him. Deal with the portal first. He tried to sense the disruption. A breach between worlds would feel like a thunderstorm, or an earthquake. A building tension that would flatten everything. The last thing his home town needed.

He couldn't feel anything like that from here. A good sign, perhaps.

Andrew unlocked the door and went inside. He didn't turn a light on, just stood behind the door and held it open.

"Come on, Mr Giles," he called out, in a jarringly loud voice.

Giles, tugging the sword into place properly, stepped into the darkened hall.

And saw movement on his right.

Not Andrew. No one Andrew had mentioned. Giles had the sword half out before he turned to see it.

A figure, possibly human, a baseball bat raised.

"Wait, no!" Andrew shouted, and the other figure paused, but Giles had his sword drawn now and brought it around defensively. The other jumped back preternaturally fast.

"Andrew, we have to!" It said. She said? Did Andrew have a Slayer here?

A soft _pfft_ sounded from behind him, and something stung his back. He knew that sound, and the feeling, the heaviness that washed through him.

Andrew stepped into view, his tranquiliser gun in hand.

Giles dropped to his knees.

"No bats, I meant. I've got the gun right here," Andrew told the girl.

"Oh," she replied, and stepped into the light.

Not a Slayer. Chalk white, pointed ears, and just a hint of iridescent scales. Giles tried to identify the species, but instead his eyes slipped closed, and things started to fade out.

"I told you, I'll get whatever you need," Andrew said.

The girl, much closer, murmured, "Even a Giles."

*** *** ***

 

Giles woke up slowly, his thoughts sluggish and slightly disconnected. He didn't open his eyes right away. Something nagged at the back of his mind, suggesting things weren't quite as they should be. He felt slow, and heavy, and generally had reason to suspect that he wasn't so much waking up as coming around. He'd done enough of that to feel the distinction was important. But this time his head didn't hurt. That seemed strange. And he didn't feel sick at all.

He listened, but heard nothing that could be any use. So he opened his eyes, just slightly. Daylight came in through an unfamiliar window. It was short, starting at waist height, and about as wide as his shoulders. The ones in his house went from a window seat barely an oversize book height off the ground right up to a paperback short of the ceiling, as wide as his spread arms. This, therefore, was not his room. Neither was this his bed.

Also, he seemed to be handcuffed to it. That didn't tend to happen much any more.

Now what had he been doing?

He heard a noise from the side opposite the window and turned to see a door, currently closed. Beyond it there were footsteps, getting closer. Giles closed his eyes quickly, then opened them a slit.

The door started to open.

"Andrew, where are you going?" a feminine voice asked.

The door stopped, still too closed to show Giles anything.

Andrew replied, "Just checking Mr Giles. The dart should wear off soon. I was going to bring him some water."

"Oh. Yes, that would be nice. Just, don't be long, okay? I need you."

"And whatever you need..." Andrew said, then trailed off to silence.

Something bumped into the door, and it swung open.

Andrew was hugging a demon. A five foot tall female, in a short summer dress, but definitely a demon. Scales covered the back of her head and spread down her shoulders. They were white with a nacreous sheen, like oil slick puddles on chalk. One of Andrew's hands rested on them, apparently unconcerned. He was wearing that oversized tweed jacket still, his Watcher suit, and it looked more incongruous than ever.

"Are you sure this is it though?" he asked, still holding her. "We have the book now. You could just read it. Let Giles go and..."

"No!" she said, pulling away. "Andrew, we can't. You know this is my only chance. They'd never help something like me."

"Some**one**," Andrew stressed, cupping her cheek.

"Right. But which would he see?" She covered his hand with her own. The nails were long and pointed.

Andrew bit his lip and looked at Giles, who held quite still. "He's not like the others. He came here to help."

"He came here to protect himself. That's all they care about, Andrew. Protecting the world, from things like me." She stared at Giles too, her face unreadable. From this angle she looked almost human. But he couldn't see her eyes clearly, not at this distance. All he could tell was they were dark.

Giles searched his memory for a match, trying to determine what species they were dealing with, but found nothing quite right.

She turned away. "Just don't be gone long, okay? I hate it when you're gone," she finished in a whisper.

Andrew pulled her close again, and Giles closed his eyes.

Then one set of footsteps left, and the other stepped into the room.

Andrew closed the door, then walked up to the bed. He stood beside Giles, silent, for a long moment.

Then he said, "You know, you look different when you're really asleep. More relaxed. And also, sometimes there's drool."

Giles debated the dubious merits of playing possum some more, then decided it wasn't worth the aggravation, and opened his eyes.

Andrew looked slightly surprised.

Giles pulled at the handcuffs that spread his arms across the bed, but got no slack from them. "It's very hard to relax when one is chained up against one's will," he sniped, trying to pull together an air of authority. Not the easiest thing to do while flat on his back. "Take these things off me at once!" he ordered.

Andrew looked uncomfortable. "I can't."

"Can't? Don't tell me you don't have keys."

"No, the keys are right here." Andrew patted his key chain. He had it strung between his pockets like a watch chain, in a waistcoat that matched the jacket.

"Then you can and you will," Giles told him. He pushed and pulled until he was leaning up against the headboard. The brass bed posts appeared sturdy, which was a pity. He'd probably injure his hands if he tried to pull free.

"Mr Giles, please, I really can't," Andrew said. "I could... get you some water. Would you like water? Or pizza. It's cold. It's kind of been sitting in the box... for..." He checked his wristwatch. "Huh. Nine hours? Okay, maybe not pizza. Doritos?"

"Andrew, stop flapping around, and get me out of here."

Andrew bit his lip and looked down. "No," he said, in a small voice. Then he looked up at him again and repeated, more firmly, "No. I'm not gonna do that. Not yet. See, if I let you go, you'd do something, like take the book or try and stop us, and that... That couldn't end well." He looked away again.

"Andrew, you are collaborating with a demon to open the door to a hell dimension. How exactly do you expect that to end well?"

"It will help her. It's what she needs. And also, not a door, just a window. Nobody's going through anything."

"That's what she told you, is it? The demon..."

"The girl," Andrew interrupted. "The **woman**. She's a person. Her name is Una."

"Honour?"

"**U**na. Like little shiny Oona in 'Legend'. The girl fairy? She had pointy ears too, and rainbow sparkles."

"They're not sparkles, Andrew, they're scales. And, if I observed correctly, claws."

"And also, her teeth are getting pointy." Andrew shrugged, then smiled. "She looks like pearls, with rainbows inside. Like built in jewelry. It's very pretty."

Giles just stared at him.

"Why am I the only one that can see that?" Andrew asked.

"They do say love is blind." Giles sighed.

"That's such a dumb saying, though. Love is all about seeing. Love at first sight, seeing someone..."

"Being blind to their faults, to possible dangers..."

"Seeing who they really are, underneath all the stuff that doesn't matter. Not caring if someone wears the cool coat, or drives the sports car, or goes out to work for money. Just... seeing them."

Giles shook his head.

"Haven't you ever met someone... Someone who sees who you're trying to be, who you really are inside? Someone who looks at you... Believes in you... And it's like... like everything comes into focus. Like it just clicks. Like when you're doing magic and finally you know the world is listening to you, and nobody is laughing. And it all just works." Andrew looked at the door in dreamy distraction.

Giles thought of demons, and magic, and dark eyes that once looked at him like he was worth believing in.

"Yes," he said.

Andrew looked at him and blinked.

"It ended... badly." Blood on a sword, dagger, letter opener. Watching him manhandled into an army vehicle. It always ended, badly.

"Well... This is totally different."

"Andrew, you're being manipulated into opening a portal by a demon! It isn't even different from last year!"

"The difference is **Una**! She's not the First, and she's not evil."

Giles shook his head. Andrew turned and started to pace.

"See, this is what is blind. It's just prejudice. You, the Council Watchers, you're not even looking at her. You just see a demon. It's like... like demons are always NPCs, or just something random out of the Monstrous Manual. Like all you need to know are the basic stats and weaknesses. But Una's a player character, even if she is low level now. A character sheet isn't going to tell you all the stuff you need to know about her."

Giles had understood maybe one word in ten of that, but he did vaguely recall some of it from being a dwarf just before Sunnydale fell. He could take a guess at the rest from context. "Andrew, I know she's an individual. I know it might seem unfair to think of someone as just an example of their species. But knowing what she is means knowing what she can do. Does she have special powers? Is she stronger, or faster than a human being? Can she influence people..."

"I'm not mind controlled, Giles," Andrew said. "I didn't take any potions. She didn't cast any spells. She just needed help. So she came to me."

"She approached you?" Giles asked. "With this plan."

"No, no plan. It wasn't about that." Andrew sighed, then sat down on the edge of the bed next to him. "Mr Giles... Una is a really special woman. She's strong. Not Slayer strong, but most things aren't. She's fast too. Faster than a vampire, I've seen her run one down from a hundred yards away. She can see in the dark, which is really useful for any place without street lights."

Giles added this to his mental filecard and started to consider possible matches.

"We've been going out together for a while now. Almost every night. She's good, Giles. Really, really good."

Giles closed his eyes and wished he could polish his glasses. Some parts of Andrew's life he had absolutely no wish to know about.

"I know she's different. More different than when I met her. She can't pass for human any more."

Gradually deteriorating appearance. Perhaps a wraither? But they usually worked in groups.

"I've been working on this for weeks, checking stuff out, and we still don't know for sure, but all the trails lead to the one place. Now we've got the book..."

"You can destroy reality as we know it. Or you can unchain me and we can stop this."

Andrew just looked at him for a long moment, then frowned bitterly and shook his head.

"Andrew?" Her voice, from out in the hall. The demon girl pushed the door open.

Andrew went over to her immediately. "I'm here." He hugged her. "I'm sorry, I know I said I'd be back soon. I just... I was hoping Mr Giles would help us."

She leaned back in his arms and stared up at him. "Andrew, he's one of them. The Council."

"I know, but..."

"You told him, right? What we've been doing? Did it change his mind?"

Andrew bit his lip, then shook his head. "I'm sorry. I don't think he believed me."

"They never do. They don't believe in either of us."

"I know. But I know they're wrong. Just because you aren't like the other Slayers doesn't mean you can't be a hero," Andrew affirmed, looking into her eyes.

She looked back at him, her face softening. "I know. I want to. But this power in me..." She looked anxious again. "There's darkness in it. I need to know more. About where I come from, about the others like me. Maybe I could be stronger, I could be better. But I'm scared. I know it's going to be hard. And I can't do it... without you. I need your help. I need you to be my Watcher."

Andrew smiled down at the girl, positively glowing with pride.

Giles closed his eyes and grit his teeth.

*** *** ***

 

"Whatever you need," Andrew promised once more.

There was a silence, then the demon girl spoke again, tentatively. "So... If there was something... Something that sounds bad..."

Giles looked again, eyes narrowed.

Andrew replied. "I'll get it for you. It's okay. I got you the slug candles from the magic shop. And the stuff from the butcher's shop, the... organs. And even stuff from the chemists, for things I don't have the organs for. Trust me, I can do this."

"Good. Great. So..." She brought her hand up into view. In it was a bowl, small and metal, probably stainless steel from the kitchen. And in that was something else, the handle just visible from where he lay.

Andrew's face went pale.

"These claws get in the way of everything. And I don't think they're sharp enough, not after the sandpaper. So, could you do the cutting parts?"

"No!" Giles said firmly. "There will be no cutting!"

Andrew looked over at him, as did the demon. Her face was still unreadable, but Andrew looked nervous. He put an arm around her and pulled her away down the hall.

Giles heard raised voices then, but couldn't make out the words. He alternated between listening and pulling against the chains. If his options were hurt hands or human sacrifice he knew which one he'd rather risk.

But Andrew returned before he made any progress.

"Andrew Wells, have you learned nothing?" Giles addressed him sternly.

Andrew closed the door behind himself, and slid a bolt across.

"Demons, portals, and now human sacrifice!" Giles continued.

Andrew turned and brought the bowl over to the bed, setting it on the bedside cabinet. The knife was still in the bowl, but Andrew started rummaging in his pockets.

"To kill another human being is the darkest, most dangerous, most damning kind of magic there is..." Giles went on, then trailed off a bit.

Andrew was getting out first aid supplies. A pocket sized tin opened to reveal bandages, antiseptic, even needle and thread. What Andrew removed from the tin would be appropriate for a small cut.

"... and blood magic isn't a hell of a lot better. Especially with unwilling blood," Giles finished, changing direction only slightly awkwardly.

"You know, the whole thing of being a Watcher would have been a lot easier if everyone didn't keep jumping to 'human sacrifice' whenever I picked up a knife." Andrew told him, matching actions to words. He looked at the blade, wiped it down with alcohol from the kit, and put it back in the bowl. Then he took off his jacket, looked around for somewhere to put it, and went to hang it on the foot of the bed. He pushed his sleeve up as he came back to stand in front of the bowl, then picked up the knife again. He brought it over his own forearm, and held it there, looking very pale.

"Andrew... This still isn't a good idea."

Andrew brought the knife down, until it was almost touching his skin, then flinched back again. He took a deep breath.

"Opening a portal to a hell dimension, or even a window... You can't risk turning Bath into another Sunnydale."

"I really hate this part." Andrew muttered, lowering the knife again.

"Or risk crippling yourself with that knife! Andrew, really, put it down and let me out of these. You don't know what you're doing!"

"Oh, I know." Andrew replied, and finally brought knife against skin.

Blood welled out, very slowly. Andrew made a little sound, a stifled thing that wanted to be a scream. He pushed down a little harder.

Blood started to drip, and he made sure it dripped right into the bowl. He pulled the knife away carefully, then put it in the bowl and let the blood drip in steadily.

"I really, really, really hate this part," he muttered steadily. "Icky and owie and icky and..." he kept up the chant until he bit his lip, then pressed against the wound to open it more.

Giles was, of course, angry at the boy, but some part of him was also obscurely proud. Considering how much of a production he had made about simply removing some tape from his chest, seeing him standing here bleeding himself with relative calm was... well, worrying as all hell, of course, but also a rather large step forwards.

And stupid. Very stupid. He had not been exaggerating about the dangers of blood magic.

But if neither good advice nor pain was going to stop Andrew, a more subtle approach was needed.

"I know you know that you can buy that stuff," Giles observed. "In convenient sealed bags."

Andrew glared at him. "The spell was specific. Real specific. Now be quiet. Or, like, moan or something. Una doesn't have super hearing, but..." He glanced over at the door, then looked back at Giles and made a face.

Giles thought he got the message, but needed to confirm. "She thinks the blood is mine?" he asked, very quietly.

Andrew now busied himself stopping the bleeding. It was awkward with one hand, but he'd set out everything he'd need in advance. He hissed when the antiseptic stung, then put a gauze pad over the area.

"She doesn't want me to risk it," Andrew said absently, concentrating on his work. He tried to get the end of the bandage in place one handed.

"I can help with that," Giles offered.

Andrew looked up, surprised and hopeful.

"Get one of these cuffs off," Giles told him, but Andrew looked away and shook his head.

"I spent ages trying to get you guys to untie me, remember? I know all the tricks. Got to scratch, need to pee, let me help you... Which, okay, I did, when you let me go. So..."

Right then came a knock on the door. Andrew quickly fumbled the rest of the bandage into place, taped the end down, and rolled his sleeve back into place.

There was another knock. "Andrew?"

"Nearly ready!" Andrew called back. He grabbed his jacket from the bedstead, wincing slightly as he pulled it on the newly injured arm.

The door handle rattled. Andrew stepped towards it, then turned back and quickly grabbed the bowl. He hurriedly took it over to the door, slipped the bolt, and pulled the door open a crack.

"Got it. Right here. I just... locked it so you wouldn't have to see."

"That's so sweet," she told him.

He grinned as he stepped out the room, shutting the door behind him.

Giles was left once again alone, handcuffed to the bed, now with the open tin of first aid supplies on the cabinet beside him.

Well, new resources. Perhaps he could do something with them. A little levitation... not that he'd ever been particularly good at that by himself, but needs must...

He spent the next ten minutes laboriously trying to pull the box towards him, and when that failed, trying to pick out a safety pin or something. It rattled, but was otherwise unmoved. Magic without ritual, words or tools, raw magic, tapping into the basic forces of the universe... Willow had been able to do it in high school. Ethan had used his strength to do more, after university. One fifty year old mage, after retirement, with very rusty skills... managed to make it rattle, a little.

Or was that him at all?

He stopped, and concentrated on his senses.

Magic was building, somewhere. A slow build up of forces. The kind around a boat sail, a dam, or a window in a storm – where one thing meets another and pushes.

That idiot boy and his demon were trying the spell.

He heard her voice rising from some other room, each new syllable answered by rattling from tin and furniture. The bed started to knock against the wall as the floorboards quivered.

The pressure built up until he felt like his ears would pop, until his mind felt pressed within his skull and it was hard to breathe. He heard the demon girl's voice rise up in a final crescendo, felt the summoned magic focus, shaped by her will, and then...

Nothing.

Sudden suspension as disconcerting as the increase had been.

No release, and no cessation. The magic was still there, heavy around him, a hum and a tremble. But it hung there, still, waiting for something.

Then Giles heard footsteps in the hall, and the door burst open.

"You," the demon girl hissed. "What did you do?"


	2. Chapter 2

"You are Giles, yes? Giles the Watcher? Giles who had the book. It has to be you!" The demon girl hissed angrily from between pointed teeth.

Andrew came in the room behind her, and reached out to put his hand on her shoulder.

"Una, calm down. Magic is hard. There's a bunch of different things that could..."

Una dodged aside and turned, batting his hand away hard. Andrew flinched, pulled his arm back to his chest. Una turned and strode to beside Giles, moving quicker than humans could.

"Tell me! Tell him!" Una said, gesturing at Andrew. "Tell us what you did to the others like me. Tell us what you did to my mother!"

Giles sat there a moment, looking as blank as he felt.

It was, of course, possible he had done something to her mother. She could have been a demon, after all. But since he couldn't quite place her species, he couldn't really remember.

"Don't pretend you don't know. 1980 was my lifetime ago, but you would have been my age. You remember. It was January, sometime just after New Year. That's when they found me. And that is when she disappeared. Because of you. Because you threw her out!"

"1980?" Giles asked, trying to remember. He would have been a Watcher then, yes, but only just. His Ripper days, recovering his health, finishing his education, that all took most of the 70s. By 1980 he was sworn in, but on probation, closely supervised. Mostly he worked in the old archives, conserving artefacts of dubious worth, or copying over old texts. His fellow Watchers would never have allowed him to fight demons then. They'd never have trusted him to stay on the right side. Only his Father's standing had gained Rupert a second chance at all.

"Of course." Giles said.

Una's brief satisfaction gave way to puzzlement as he continued.

"My Father was never formally in the field, but in any situation where our oath applied he did what was necessary. He found something in Bath... I've read about it, many times. He banished the last of the Dreegugze here."

"Dreegugze," Una breathed, staring at him intently. "Dreegugze... that's me? That's..."

"That's great!" Andrew enthused from the corner by the door. "Una, that's the key. We can look things up now, we can find out about..."

"No! Not enough! **He** is key! His blood! Need the blood! Need..." Una raised her hand, fingers spread and claws gleaming.

Giles leaned back and prepared to kick at her, awkward and encumbered as that would be. He noticed Andrew, across the room, had his hands inside his jacket, reaching for something. But neither move could be completed before her first strike, whistling down and...

...hitting the wall above him. Where Una leaned, teeth gritted, glaring at him, her other hand raised but held quite still.

Giles froze too. She could be at his throat in a heartbeat. Force wouldn't work. He tried to call to mind a spell, perhaps the one he'd used to restrain Willow the other year. Without the power of the coven behind it any binding would be weak, but it only needed a word. He might, perhaps, have time for a word.

Andrew had pulled something half out his pocket, a long stick, stake or wand. He looked shocked, frightened. He gulped, then spoke tentatively.

"Una? ...Honey? Could you... back up, a little? Maybe?"

Una stayed tense above him, not blinking, but her hand quivered, a little.

"I mean, Mr Giles..." Her hand moved down just a bit. Andrew hurried on. "He isn't going anywhere. He'll be here whenever we need him. We can just... go and read..."

Una moved, and Andrew pulled the wand, but she spun away from both of them and pounded her fist into the wall. She left quite a dent. She slumped there for a moment, then turned back to face the room. Giles saw Andrew cross his arms, pushing his coat closed and hiding the now drawn wand. But Una wasn't looking at him.

"No. I've done the reading. The portal was opened and sealed by Giles. By his blood. So his blood should open it. I don't understand why it wouldn't work." She sighed, then narrowed her eyes. "Okay, so this Giles is only half the same. Maybe we need more of it."

Andrew grinned crookedly. "If there's one thing I have learned, it is that plans made by bad guys in movies are just not good ideas."

Una looked at him, puzzled, then half grinned back. "Pirates of the Caribbean. Curse of the Black Pearl."

"And that time, with the right blood, only a little bit was needed. I think it'll be the same now," Andrew assured her.

"But we tried that..."

"No. Not... exactly. I, uh..." Andrew sighed, and fiddled under his coat, then brought his arm out and pulled the coat sleeve up. The shirt cuff wasn't done up, and the bandage was visible beneath it.

"Andrew!"

"I thought you were trying to protect me! Come on. I can't figure things right if you keep half of it from me."

"You **said** you'd get it for me!" Una whined.

"I know. I will, I swear, whatever you need. Just... first, you've got to tell me **everything**. We'll go back to the book, you'll tell me how you knew it was Giles, and I'll sort it all out. I promise you. Everything will be fine." Andrew held his hand out to her, smiling hesitantly. "Okay?"

Una paused a moment, then reached out, crossed the room and took his hand. He swept her into a hug, and she cuddled up to him.

Giles considered trying to trap them both there, but then they turned to go. Alone he'd have another chance to get himself out of here. He let them leave with only a glare.

Andrew glanced back at him, face in that slightly desperate stretched grin he got whenever he got caught at something and started worrying about punishments.

Giles had definite ideas about that. For later. First he had to get out of here.

But when Andrew returned just a couple of minutes later, all Giles had managed to do was kick the blankets down the bed and get himself crouched against the headboard, arms still in the handcuffs, still spread across the bed.

Andrew was carrying the bowl again, still part filled with fresh looking blood. And also a fresh, slightly larger, knife. He placed them on the bedside cabinet, then went back to close the door.

"Andrew..." Giles began, voice filled with disapproval.

"I know, Giles. Blood magic bad. Especially unwilling blood. So I promise, I won't take your blood unless you let me."

"You just promised her you'd get it for her," Giles pointed out skeptically.

"And if you let me, then that all works out." Andrew said with slightly forced brightness, coming back to stand beside Giles. He didn't reach for the bowl yet. He just put his hands in his pockets and fiddled with whatever was in there, bit his lip and looked nervous. "So, uh, can I?" He winced in anticipation.

"Andrew, so far you have kidnapped me, drugged me, and chained me to a bed. None of which leaves me inclined to help you. And all of which rather stretches the concept of 'willing', even if I say the words. Especially since if I don't that demon girl will just take it. Probably with her claws through my neck."

"I would never let that happen, Giles. I know, this all looks bad. Especially with the thing with her mother and your father, and the blood... I didn't know about that part. She got that part from her spirit quest." Andrew shrugged and started pacing, two steps either way in the small room. "I can double check the books, but the meet the ancestors thing was all just her vision. She only told me the part where they were from another dimension. I figured maybe they'd fallen through a portal, or she had. That happens sometimes. And those kinds of demons aren't, like, invading, just stuck. I thought, get the book, do the window spell, find out what her world was like. But then I couldn't get the book, and you brought a sword, and I know Una had a bat but I couldn't let you hurt her..." He stopped and turned to face Giles. "But I won't let her hurt you."

"You'll do that part all yourself, will you?"

Andrew looked at his feet, and said in a small voice, "This wasn't the plan."

"Not your plan, perhaps. I rather think it was hers. Andrew, you've done everything she's wanted so far. Do you really think you can stop her on your own? Even with a wand?"

"Wand? Oh! You mean..." Andrew pulled the long stick out of his inside jacket pocket. This close Giles could see the holes in it. "It's a flute. Or a pipe, cause you don't play it sideways. It's Chinese. A _dong xiao_." Andrew pronounced carefully. Giles was pretty sure he still got the vowel sounds wrong. "It sounds a bit silly, but the sideways ones are called _dizi_, so..." Andrew shrugged.

"Magical?"

"A little. It's better than pan pipes, and a lot smaller than the didgeridoo. Plus, there's this martial arts book I found, that tells you how to use it to kill people with. Or, uh, demons, of course." Andrew shifted awkwardly. "I'm, ah, not... brilliant on it yet. But it's kind of like what I played in band, so I figure I'll learn."

"But it works like the pipes, yes? Only on demons?"

"Well, I can only do demons," Andrew said. "Music works better on them than words anyway. It's about focusing and translating intent. No having to learn every single demon language. You decide what you want, and you play this the right way, and then the demon it's aimed at wants that stuff too."

"And you're using it on your girlfriend," Giles muttered, disgusted.

"No!" Andrew objected. "No way! Magic and girlfriends don't mix, not ever. Or else there's shouting, and badness, and it's just not worth it, even for costumes. Plus, I haven't used it with Una. I couldn't."

"Because if it worked, she would be just another demon."

"If it works it just means the magic is strong enough. That doesn't mean anything, like, **moral**. But... If I work it... If **I** use magic **on** her... Then it's over." Andrew looked down, turned the flute around in his fingers. "Me and her... Being her Watcher..." He sighed, then looked up at Giles again. "It's all about trust. They have to trust us. To know what they need, to get it for them. But not to... be their remote control guy. Not to run them like robots. If we ever do that, just zap their minds and do stuff to them, instead of for them... Well, it would be wrong. And the whole point is to **not** be wrong any more, so..." Andrew shrugged. "So I can't do that."

This time Giles looked down.

"But I can't let you get hurt either. So I don't have many options. I mean, there isn't much I can think of... Giles, could you... Help?" Andrew finished in a very small voice.

Giles looked up, over at him, then down at the chains. He gestured at them, as much as he could.

"Get me out of these, and I'll help you."

Andrew looked hopeful for a moment, but his face fell as Giles continued.

"We'll get her contained, then contact the Council. I'm sure with their help..."

Andrew shook his head, started to speak, then shut his mouth, turned and walked out of the room.

He was only gone a few seconds, probably just across the hall, though Giles couldn't see much past the door.

When he returned, Andrew had an awkward armful of things he tried to keep balanced, including Giles' coat and boots, and some folders full of paper. He had to concentrate to swing the door closed behind him. He brought it all over and dumped it on the end of the bed.

"I need you to see something," Andrew said, going through the long coat's many pockets. "Not metaphor see, so..." He pulled out Giles' glasses. "You're going to need these. Here, I'll have to..." Andrew opened the glasses and turned them around, holding them out towards Giles.

Giles, reluctantly, ducked his head to help get them on. They weren't settled right, so Andrew started fiddling with them, but Giles pulled back, leaving the glasses quite noticeably crooked.

Andrew twitched a little, reaching to fix them, but then turned away and picked his papers up instead. He arranged them to his liking, then held the first out for Giles to see.

It was a printout of an email, with a digital photo attached. One of Andrew's usual reports to the Council upon retrieving a Slayer.

"This was Una," Andrew said, pointing to the girl on the left. "I found her," he continued, pointing at himself on the right, "When the Council sent me to get Beatrice." He indicated the girl in the middle.

Giles was reading the email.

"Beatrice had found Una?"

"Yeah. Out hunting. They got in a fight with some demons, great big furry ones, with six limbs. Iuratez we think. I thought later maybe they were why Una started changing, but nothing in their profile indicated they were infectious, or possessing demons, or likely to use magic. And they look nothing like what Una is becoming."

"You reported two Slayers. You didn't know what she was?"

"Bea told me they were both Slayers. She told Una the same thing. Bea had heard from the Watchers already, Una didn't know about them. They're both strong, and fast, and they started changing at about the right time. We didn't find out until later that Una changed slowly, not all at once. It was an easy mistake to make."

Giles studied the girls. There was very little difference between them. Both dark haired, with dark eyes and a Mediterranean tan. Una was a few inches shorter than the other girl, but she could have been her little sister. There was no trace of demon about her.

"You can see that, right? I didn't ignore anything, there just wasn't anything to see yet."

Giles nodded, and Andrew, relieved, changed to the second piece of paper.

"We got back to England and the girls went to a halfway house with the other newbies. They did the tour and got the leaflets and all that. Nobody got assigned a Watcher yet, so I sort of stuck around a while to help out. But then this happened."

Another email, and pictures, this time a set of closeups of Una's shoulders.

"She couldn't see them, but her roommate noticed."

Scales, just appearing, in a thin band across her upper back.

"There was also hair loss, but that didn't really show up yet. She had a lot of hair to start with."

"So, that was when the Council realised what she was?"

Andrew put the papers down between them and started spreading them out. More photos, more emails, some pages scanned from textbooks.

"First I did research. I remembered a time from your Watcher diaries, from Sunnydale? Buffy got infected with an aspect of the demon. That time turned out to be telepathy, but I figured scales could be the same principle. I tried to narrow down what she might have had contact with, cross reference demons native to where she'd been with any that might have an effect like this. Other Watchers helped, or tried to help. I thought... I thought it would be like that time. That we'd find a cure. So I told Una it would be okay." He pushed the papers more neatly into line, then looked up at Giles, his eyes pleading. "I promised her, Giles. I said I'd help her."

"That you'd get whatever she needed," Giles replied. His voice gave away nothing. But he could not entirely disapprove.

"I was her Watcher. I mean, not officially, but I found her and I brought her there. It felt like I was her Watcher."

Giles nodded slowly, and Andrew looked glad.

Then sad. He looked down and found a particular paper.

"Plus there was the part where... nobody else would do it."

Andrew held up another letter for inspection, this one typed on Council headed paper.

"To Andrew Wells, Watcher in Training (suspended)..." Giles read out.

"That's not the important part," Andrew interrupted hastily. He looked at the letter again, and folded it so only the center third showed.

Giles read it with a slight frown.

"No further aid... No Council resources to be squandered on non-humans... No tribunal for non-humans..." Giles raised an eyebrow.

"Bea and the other girls, they thought Una should get a tribunal. She Chose, just like the rest of the Slayers. She took the same oath. She should have the same rules. I mean, all Slayers are part demon anyway. Una's just different parts. But the Council tried to say it was like with vampyrs. Like if a Watcher or Slayer got turned into a vampyr. They don't count any more. Only, even new Slayers know what happens after that, and nobody wanted Una to get staked. Well, nobody at the house, anyway. So they helped, hid what we were doing, and we ran. We got out of London and we just hid and tried to figure out what to do next."

"This," Giles stated, moving his hands so his chains clinked against the bedposts.

Andrew nodded, and started shuffling the papers back together. "We can't go back to the Council. They'd kill her. And... I've tried all the things I knew how to do. I need help, Giles." He looked away and smiled crookedly. "I know you're thinking you know what kind. You sent me to therapy, and that was... good, actually. We worked out some stuff. But this isn't crazy. This isn't stupid. Or... not totally. This is... Being a Watcher. Doing it right." He looked back at Giles, at the chains. "Sometimes, that means doing the hard things, the bad things, because they save more than they hurt. Only... I'm not sure, right now, if I... If I alone can save her. So, Watcher to Watcher, I am asking for your help. Please?" Andrew finished, looking Giles in the eyes. His eyes were wet, and he looked very tired.

Rupert looked back at him, and considered.

"Watcher to Watcher... I can help. But only as a Watcher should."

"If that means she dies because she's a demon..."

"No. It means... Andrew, to care for your Slayer is admirable. I understand. She came to you, she chose you, and even if the Council don't approve you chose her in return. Buffy and I... Well, I understand. But the first duty of a Watcher is not to their Slayer, however much we would like it to be. It is to the world. We are sworn to protect this world. The Slayer is..."

"A weapon," Andrew said. "A lot of the old Watchers say that."

Giles shook his head. "A partner. Una... you said, she Chose, and she took the oath. The same as we did. So I can no more risk the whole world to save her, than I would risk it to save myself. However much I might want to."

"You'd risk it for Buffy," Andrew said in a small voice.

"I would not. I did not." Giles chose his phrasing carefully, since Andrew was not among those who knew the details of Buffy's most recent death. "If I believed my Slayer were in hell, I would not use magic to break in and save her. It would be in breach of both our duties. And she would be the first to die to seal such a breach. So this, this window, or portal... To access a hell dimension to, what, let your Slayer **in**? It doesn't make sense, Andrew. Not for a Watcher, and not for a Slayer."

"She just wants to find her family. What she is. Maybe a place to fit in. It's not... a bad thing..." Andrew trailed off and started tracing patterns on the bedspread.

"Your motives don't seem bad," Giles agreed gently. "Good intentions..."

"Road to hell," Andrew mumbled, then sniffed.

"Take these off, then we'll go... explain to her," Giles said.

But Andrew shook his head again.

"She really isn't in an explaining kind of mood," Andrew said. "Plus, she's in there with the portal spell. Everything is drawn, all the words said. It just needs some of your blood. If we go explain, and she hits you, and you, like, bleed on the floor... Well, then the spell would work." Andrew sounded slightly too cheerful about that. "But, you don't want it to do that. And also, there would be hitting. I was trying to make it so there wouldn't be any."

"The portal spell is active?" Giles asked. He had noticed the power was still present – with everything still trembling it was hard to ignore – but he had hopes it was unformed magic, not as yet a portal.

"There's a fuzzy bit in the air. Inside is dark and outside is glowing."

"So the portal is formed, just not open."

Andrew shrugged. "Yeah, maybe. But, **window**. I checked the spell, it isn't for going through."

"Andrew, in case it escaped your notice, you can actually climb through windows." Giles nodded towards the window in the bedroom, currently closed but easily slid open. "It simply takes more work. If the other side don't know what you're doing, if they're taken unawares, then it is possible to briefly view them. But if they know..."

"Una wouldn't tell anybody!"

"From the sounds of it, Una was the one that was told."

"Oh. With the spirit quest, when they told her about you. Or, Giles the Watcher. A dad who is a Watcher, that must be so cool."

"Andrew, focus. We have to contain this, get the portal fully closed again. We should call the Council and get some Slayers here, just in case..."

"No. No Council, no Slayers, no plans that have Una getting slain. Una is a Slayer, if anything goes wrong she can handle it."

Giles tried to clean his glasses, but of course got brought up short by the chains.

"There has to be something else we can do. You brought stuff. You had another book in here..." Andrew started emptying the pockets on the long coat Giles had brought. Salt, herbs, a couple of talismanic stones. And, finally, the small book labeled _Doors_.

"Be careful with that, it's one of a kind," Giles objected.

"Hand written. Looks like a regular lined notebook. A modern one, I could get one like this at the newsagents right now. Is it yours? It doesn't look like your writing."

"It was left with me. It belonged to... someone I knew."

Andrew had taken the book over to the window, where the light was best, and was flicking through it. He found the title page.

"_'Rituals of Janus, a new compendium. By Ethan Rayne.'_ Huh. Do I know that name? Was there something... From Sunnydale. A bad guy... Are these evil spells?"

"No. At least, not inherently. Janus is... Well, he is a two faced god. His gifts tend to be double edged."

"Also, involving knives. And blood." Andrew read, then looked at Giles meaningfully.

"These are not spells I would use lightly. They are rituals of last resort. Done carefully, with proper training and attention to detail, there is a chance – a fairly good chance – that all those involved survive."

"And a chance they don't?"

"All magic has costs. And consequences," Giles said. He paused, and Andrew looked at the book more doubtfully. "As I said, not to be used lightly."

Andrew paused on a particular page, angling it to catch the light. "Is this like the spells at your place?" He looked up, then came over to show Giles the page. The two faces of Janus looked out from the page, and the drawing of the door as it needed to be between them.

"Yes. Janus is, among other things, a god of doors. In that case he protects against magic, and magical creatures."

"Great! We set this up here..."

"Unfortunately that would take several months. One per room to be protected, with rituals at every quarter. It is a very thorough, very long lasting spell, requiring minimal maintenance. That always means a lot of initial investment."

Andrew's face had fallen. Giles hesitated slightly, considering the wisdom of his next words, but the boy would find it soon enough on his own.

"Try five pages further on. There's a more powerful, temporary spell that might serve."

"_'To Close the Gates'_. Gates, like portals? Would this work on the portal?"

"I had that hope. Ideally, _Ralamborn's_ would have the proper ritual of closure, but if that failed and we needed something in a hurry... Blood magic is volatile, but powerful. And even if it does not work on the portal directly, it can close the doors around it, seal this house, and so contain the damage."

"So, we need blood... Check." Andrew said, pointing at the bowl, and continuing to read. "Doesn't mention any herbs... or precious stones... Or amulets. Giles, all this needs is some words. Latin, but... Anyone could do this. Why isn't this in all the books?"

"They could do this, if they were willing to risk their lives in so doing."

"Ah. That... Would cut down the popularity."

"Indeed. Finding one mage who wouldn't rather do things safe and slow is difficult. Finding two?"

"Two... These spells take two? Like Two Face in Batman, always with the twin sidekicks. Gods should have better themes. More original, you know?"

"Janus is..." Considerably older than Batman, but Giles winced slightly and kept himself on topic with an effort. "Janus is very specific in his requirements."

"But we fit them, right? I mean, we don't have to be identical."

"No. We fit quite well enough." One youth, one older man. Actually the usual representation of the god. Time was he would have had to look for a statue with two young faces. "We could use this spell. But I still do not believe we should. There are more resources available..."

"To other people. In this room there's just you and me. So we have to try something we can work. This... This would mean whatever happens in here doesn't risk the world. With this up, we could help Una, show her what her family are like." Andrew looked up and saw Giles' frown. "Or, we could talk her out of it," he corrected himself lamely.

"Dreegugze are not peaceful demons. My Father wasn't in the habit of risking his life for sheer speciesism."

"Una definitely isn't peaceful," Andrew agreed. "But she is good. Maybe her family are like that. Or, at least, she'll say that, if we just talk to her."

Giles opened his mouth to argue, then shook his head. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it." He looked at the book, the bowl, the blood. He sighed. "First, we make sure nothing escapes here."

"Right." Andrew said, getting up and getting the knife.

"Andrew... You do realise, that includes us."

Andrew paused, knife in hand. Giles elucidated.

"Two casters speak the spell together, and in so doing close and lock the gates. To open them again, they speak the unlocking spell."

Andrew put the knife down and hurriedly turned pages.

"That too is in the book. But we have to speak it together. Just one or the other of us won't do."

"So neither of us can drop it and run away, or go get anyone. Can anyone get in?"

"No. Once the barrier is up, there will be just you and me... and Una... to deal with whatever happens."

"And if one of us dies?"

"Then the barrier remains. Not forever. Perhaps only until the end of the natural lifespan of the caster."

"...Oh. That would be... A long time." Andrew raised his eyebrows. "And we definitely don't have enough doritos. So you know I'd have to keep you safe."

"Yes, as I would have to protect you."

"So it's all good." Andrew picked up the knife and put down the book, then picked up the first aid supplies to clean the blade with. "I get some of your blood – after you say I can – and..."

"Take it to your girlfriend?"

"Giles!" Andrew looked at him, looking wounded. "Come **on**! Don't you trust me? I mean, okay, yeah, there's the thing with the tranq gun. I did kind of shoot you in the back. And there's the chains... But if I just wanted to cut you then I would have by now!"

"Unless some form of consent were necessary for the spell. If I am meant to trust you then I think a good first step would be for you to let me out of these handcuffs."

"And have you go phone the Council? You're being all untrusty, maybe it's because you're thinking of doing the sneaky things. No, I think you stay there until we get the spell put up. You can talk from over here as long as I get your blood, the spell says so."

"So we reach something of an impasse – I'm not about to let you near me with that knife. If we must do this spell, I'll cut myself. Even if I trust your intentions, I do not think you're that good with a blade."

"But you are. If you get the knife, you could throw it, or stab me, or stab Una."

"Yes I could. You'll just have to trust me."

"Well... you'll have to trust me first." Andrew said, going to cross his arms, then remembering the knife. He ended up with one arm crossed over his chest, elbow resting on hand, knife waving in front of his face petulantly.

Giles tried not to glare. Glaring would, at this moment, be counterproductive. It also never quite looked right with his glasses on wonky.

He just stared at Andrew. Who stared back.

Andrew blinked first.

He lowered the knife and bit his lip.

"I could promise you. I mean I promised Una, and I promised you, and that's kind of the way I got stuck already. So you know I keep my promises."

Giles still looked sceptical.

"Or, I could swear properly. Like, an oath. A formal oath, maybe to a god." Now Andrew had the idea, it was of course running away with him. "I could swear to mighty Thor. He's a god in lots of places, not just comics. He's in charge of promises, and also lightning, so if I break my word I'd probably get struck down. And it wouldn't be like on Highlander because I'm not an Immortal, I'd just get fried. So if I swear to Thor, will you believe me?"

"That would be a serious oath," Giles agreed.

"Great!" Andrew said. "So we need an oath ring." He started going through his pockets with his free hand.

"Andrew, I hardly think..."

"Just wait one second..." Andrew told him, then dashed out the door, leaving it gaping open.

Giles tensed up, expecting the demon girl to come in again, but he only heard the noises of a hasty search. Drawers were opened, heavy things moved, and Andrew muttered to himself. Then there was a brief silence, followed by a few thumping sounds.

Andrew came in, brandishing a small silver object triumphantly.

"Okay, so I didn't have an actual ring. But I found a hammer for an action figure, one of the big ones, and Thor has a sacred hammer so that seemed right, so I kind of bent it around, and..."

"Yes, Andrew, I'm sure it's adequate." Privately Giles believed that the sacred oath rings of Thor were actually consecrated items kept in temples and tended to by priests. But considering the reverence Andrew kept his action figures in, it probably worked out much the same in his mind.

Andrew's eyes fairly glowed with enthusiasm as he held the ring aloft before him. "I, Andrew Wells, hereby swear by Almighty Thor..." he paused briefly, having obviously not quite thought this far. "I shall aid Rupert Giles in his current quest, as Rupert Giles shall aid me." He lowered the ring and held it out towards Giles. "Your turn." He looked at how Giles was bound, then came up and put the ring in his hand, keeping hold of it too. He looked up at Giles expectantly.

Giles kept an eye on the door, still worried the noise would attract the wrong attention. He added his promise rather absently. "I'll help you if you'll help me. And get these handcuffs off." He looked at Andrew again, who looked a little disappointed. "I swear by Thor, alright? Now..."

Andrew lowered the ring, looked around for somewhere to put it, put the knife down and got his key chain out.

Giles continued in a lowered voice. "Could we perhaps hurry this up? Una seemed... quite eager to continue."

"Oh, she is. But she got hungry, I guess. She isn't on this floor, so she's probably downstairs in the kitchen."

"Probably? But if we seal the house with Una outside..."

"Then you get to close the portal." Andrew shrugged. He had fastened the newly made promise ring to his key chain, looped through two key rings. One of them was a silver circle covered in chevrons, the other a curious branching design that looked a bit like a blue W in a circle of small dots. Next to them were several with pictures of actors in, and one that looked like an ivy leaf from that Lord of the Rings film. The whole bunch looked like they weighed enough to make a decent weapon. Andrew dropped them back in their pocket, then pulled the other end of the key chain out, the one with the actual keys. He looked at Giles' hands, and at the bedside cabinet, with the bowl and knife. Then he went back around the bed to the far side, and unlocked Giles' right hand.

The first thing Giles did was readjust his glasses, and then glare at Andrew, mildly. "I am actually left handed you know," Giles grumbled a little, bringing his right wrist around to where he could rub it, and swinging his feet down off the bed on the side with the cabinet.

"I know. So I'm staying over here until the blood part is done. Okay?"

Giles looked back at him for a moment, then nodded. Then he looked at the door, now behind him. "Close that again, will you?"

Andrew went to do so, and Giles turned his attention to the knife.

It looked clean enough, but having supplies to hand Giles cleaned it again, just to be on the safe side. Not that infection would be the primary threat to his life in the near future, but one always had to act as if there would be a long term, if one wished to avoid nasty surprises.

The knife was also sharp enough, either new or well maintained, a kitchen utensil meant for slicing meat. Giles held the flat against the meat of his arm and considered how best to do this. In the end he decided that even on a short chain as it was, his left hand had better fine control. He held the knife there, after hitching up his right sleeve.

"Do we have to use this bowl?" he asked. He looked down at the small pool of blood still in it. Such powerful stuff. Life and death in liquid form. Adding his own to Andrew's... was not appealing.

"It is the good bowl. I could get, like, Tupperware, but then we'd have to mix the blood up anyway, to do the spell," Andrew said apologetically.

Giles sighed, grit his teeth, and cut himself.

Bleeding sufficiently didn't take long. Stopping the bleeding one handed, however...

"Andrew, pass me the gauze pad," Giles said.

Andrew came around the bed cautiously, hesitant.

"Sometime before I lose a whole pint would be nice," Giles griped.

Andrew skirted around the edge of the room to the opposite side of the cabinet, and held the gauze out at arm's length. Giles just sighed and held his injured arm out to be tended to, which to his credit the boy did swiftly and correctly, albeit keeping one eye on the knife Giles still held.

The knife blade kept clanging into the bedpost or the handcuff chain, making little metallic melodies. Giles tried to concentrate on that, rather than the familiar stinging in his arm, or the too bright red he'd dripped everywhere.

As soon as the bandage was on, Andrew snatched up the bowl and backed away.

Giles tensed, switched hands with the knife, ready to try to throw it should Andrew break for the door. But instead the boy turned and put the bowl on the window sill.

"The blood goes on both sides, right? Is it in symbols, or do I just, like, dab?"

Giles hesitated a moment more, then put the knife down on the cabinet, wiped his hand on the bedspread to try and keep from smudging anything, and picked up the book. Even so, as he flicked through he left little red-brown smears on the edges of it. He sighed and tried to ignore them. Not like it was the first time.

"No particular symbols are needed for this spell," Giles confirmed. He read through the Latin portion, committing it to memory.

Andrew used a finger to dab blood down each side of the window frame. He came back over making a moue of distaste, finger held away from himself, until he could put the bowl down and pick up a wipe from the first aid tin.

"Okay, so now there's just chanting."

"You understand the spell?" Giles asked.

"Yeah." Andrew nodded, then paused. "Well, okay, not understand, as such. But I can say it, and it says what it will do in English, so... I don't need to be able to translate, do I? You know I'm better at demon languages."

"Yes. Well... As long as you understand the intent. We offer our living blood to Janus, and ask him to bar the way. We repeat the chant three times, once each separately and once together, confirming our wish, and then Janus will grant our request. Or possibly condemn us on the spot for not being ritually pure, but experience suggests those warnings are slightly overstated by the old priesthood."

"So it's safe then."

"As safe as it can be," Giles said.

Andrew somehow took this as reassurance. He held out a hand for the book, and after one last read through Giles handed it to him.

Andrew backed away and stood next to the window again.

"Ready?"

"Ready." Giles nodded. "You say it like this."

Giles mentally translated the Latin as he spoke.

"_Janus, doorkeeper of the gods, hear us. Accept this our offering, our living blood, in our time of need. Close these gates, please. Bar and lock them._"

Andrew listened intently, then repeated, near enough correctly. "_Janus, doorkeeper of the gods, hear us,_" he said, and now Giles felt that waiting stillness that signified they did indeed have something's attention. "_Accept this our offering, our living blood,_" Andrew said, and Giles became conscious of what flowed in his veins, the slow beat of it, getting faster. "_In our time of need. Close these gates please._" The power of the portal spell still trembled around them, but between them there was an altogether different feeling, one that made the shaking house irrelevant. A deity was listening. "_Bar and lock them._" Lock them in together.

Giles drew breath to join Andrew for the final supplication, and now the two of them spoke in unison, as if practiced.

"_Janus, doorkeeper of the gods, hear us._" The stillness grew deeper, and the world dropped away from significance. "_Accept this our offering, our living blood, in our time of need._" Giles felt faint, and Andrew looked pale, their blood rushing in their ears. "_Close these gates, please. Bar and lock them._" The final syllable dropped into place, and finally the god answered them.

The blood glowed, briefly crimson, then spread into laser thin lines up both sides of the window. Lines that burned brighter, until with a flash the window was covered in a sheet of red, glowing intensely for one moment, then settling down to a barely noticeable tint.

Andrew reached out and poked at it. His finger went flat at the end some time before he touched anything physical, the red light pushing back at him.

"It's solid. I mean, really tough. Like leaning on the wall." Andrew turned to face Giles with a grin. "This should work great!"

"Yes... well..." Giles tried to plaster on a smile of his own. "Now that's accomplished... the keys?"

"Oh, right. No problem." Andrew came over and got the handcuff keys out again, finally freeing Giles.

Giles took a brief moment to rub his wrist, but he moved on quickly. He started to gather his supplies together, then stood and pulled on his boots. "We should go downstairs, check the main door there. With luck this barrier will apply to all the ways in or out of the building, but if read more strictly it might only have covered the windows."

"Oh. You could have said that first," Andrew griped. He was packing his first aid tin away again. He also wiped down the knife.

"The windows needed doing, and if as you say the portal is intended to be a window, well, we might get extremely lucky and find the spell has sealed that too."

"You think?"

Giles stood up and swung his coat on, putting things away swiftly then patting his pockets to check what he still had with him. He looked around to see Andrew still looking at him hopefully.

"Hmm? Oh. Well, no, I don't expect so. It seems unlikely to be that easy." Giles picked up the little book again, flicked through it, pausing once more at the warnings. He did a rough calculation and frowned. "Come on. Better hurry. You'll have to show me the way, I was unconscious on the way up."

"Yeah, of course," Andrew agreed, picking up the bowl of blood and bringing it with him as he left. "This way."

As Andrew headed for the door, Giles stepped back and quietly picked up the knife again.

The layout of the house turned out to be very simple. Four rooms along a corridor, with stairs at the end. And at the end of the stairs, the front door, right next to the living room.

A long corridor led back past the stairs, presumably to the kitchen Andrew had mentioned.

There were noises coming from back there. Some of them resembled blocked drains, others feeding time at a pet shop.

Giles walked as softly as he could.

Andrew tested the front door, but could touch it without meeting any barrier. He looked back in the direction of the noise, then turned back to the door and, very, very carefully turned the handle. He pulled it open just a crack.

Outside there were traffic noises, quiet and intermittent on this less busy residential road. The daylight came in, grey but clear.

Andrew looked through the gap, holding the bowl of blood behind the door. Then he poked a finger through it, slowly.

"Nothing. Nothing there," he reported back, quietly. He swung the door closed quickly and dabbed some blood on the frame, then started the spell.

Giles looked around for a phone, thought about pushing past Andrew and making a run for it, but right then the noises from the kitchen tailed off.

Giles said his line as quickly as he was able.

When they started the last chant together there was once again that sense of the world dropping away, of only their blood and their word having meaning, and the deity listening. They raced to complete their offering, their request, and again the spell glowed brightly as the god granted them this favour. The ruby light settled in across the door, and it was done. Sealed. For better or worse, they were locked in.

Giles blinked and took a deep breath, slightly dizzy. Gradually he became aware of the wider world again.

And the demon girl, standing almost beside him.


	3. Chapter 3

"Andrew?" Una asked, hesitantly.

Andrew turned, bowl in hand, and drew a breath to speak.

But as soon as she saw that blood, Una was moving. She darted forwards, grabbed the bowl, and headed for the stairs.

"Una, wait!" Andrew called after her rapidly retreating back.

Giles got himself moving behind her, even though he lacked a plan for when he caught up, but he knew he'd be too late. Andrew hit the stairs beside him and they started climbing, but Una already disappeared along the landing.

The hum and tremble of magic rose once more to feel like a storm against windows until, with a sharp crack and a shaking that knocked them both to their knees, the power rushed in to a single point. Giles knew, above them, the portal had formed.

He pulled himself up with the handrail and went quickly to see the damage, Andrew right behind him.

The room Una had worked in was right by the stairs, at the opposite end of the house to where he had been captive. He knew this before he got there, from the glow, and the steady wind streaming out the door. He reached the doorway and stopped, taking in the scene.

Una stood in the center of a bare room. Dull white walls and bare floorboards, both marked with chalk, and other substances. Red brown marks along the wall, carefully drawn. Wet red on the floor, splashed in the center where the symbols were most closely drawn. There were two windows, both glowing. The one in the wall was tinged slightly pink, their barrier spell still on it. The other one was the problem. The oval hanging in mid air, edges glowing white and red, center fading to unnatural blackness.

The portal. Half as tall as he was. Air streaming out of it – air that came from a demon dimension.

Andrew, beside him, simply said, "Woah."

Una stood between the windows, bowl still in hand. On the floor beside her were assorted tools and components for the spell, the knife Andrew had used and the _Ralamborn's Realms_ book among them. Una ignored it all, staring intently at the portal before her.

"Uh... Una? Honey? Do you think you could... back away, a little?" Andrew asked cautiously. He stayed in the doorway, leaning forward, but holding on to the frame.

Giles started to go through his pockets, taking inventory.

Una didn't move.

"Andrew... isn't it beautiful?" she whispered, reverently. "A window on another world... My world. It's just... so cool!" She grinned – her teeth only showing a little – and looked over at Andrew. "Come and see!" She held a hand out to him.

Andrew kept hold of the door frame, but edged into the room a little and reached for her in turn.

"It's pretty cool. Shiny. But we haven't checked yet, we don't know if that is your world. Or, any world, really. It's just dark. If you come away a minute we'll go see what the books say..."

"Oh, Andrew, don't be silly! There's so much in there. Trees, and houses maybe. It's all so different. Alien. But familiar, too. I don't know... I think I've dreamed of this." She looked more closely at the window, let her hand fall.

"Are you sure? I don't see any of that. Just dark."

"Maybe it's a night vision thing. I know your eyes aren't good at night. Mine are. Maybe that's because home is meant to be dark." Una moved a half a step closer to the thing, her hand rising, reaching out to it.

"No, wait! Don't touch! Magic, Una, not for touching!" Andrew said urgently, finally stepping into the room.

Una looked around with a start, then stepped back again. "Right. Sorry. You're right." She blinked a little, then bent to put the bowl down and pick up the book. "We should... compare stuff. See what the book says, if it matches. And maybe you could get a camera..."

Andrew was nodding, watching Una, but Giles kept his eyes on the window. So he was first to see it.

"Andrew – the portal." Giles warned, moving into the room, with the _Doors_ book in one hand and his knife in the other.

Andrew looked around, and Una looked up.

In the portal, something was moving. Dim, at first, and seeming distant, but getting larger, nearer. Grey white, pallid, with two patches of darkness, it got up close to the window and finally resolved into a face.

A giant face, more than a foot across.

It looked as if a humanoid head had been opened at the back and pulled apart, or as if they were seeing someone from all sides at once. Black hair framed both edges, but the face between seemed rolled out, stretched wide and flat. The distortions looked bizarre, even without the pointed ears sticking out either side and almost doubling the width of it.

Even so, it looked, just a little, like the demon girl in the room with them. Like Una. Who froze, looking up at it, her mouth hanging open.

The vast face looked down at her, and split into a grin. The smile looked like a cartoon, or an advertisement for toothpaste, hanging there huge and sparkling with too-red lips. Then color spilled across the rest of the face, and suddenly it looked a lot more human.

"My little girl. My baby! Una!"

The voice was all whisper and echo, but it filled the room like the wind that carried it. As did the smell. It reminded Giles of the reptile cages at the zoo, a butcher's shop, or a Wtiurdu lair. Demons, scales, and old meals.

He stepped up beside Andrew and brought the book into his field of vision.

"On that?" Andrew whispered.

"Blood's already there." Giles whispered back, then started the chant.

"Mommy?" Una said, in a very small voice. She straightened up slowly. "I barely remember... And this thing makes you look so funny, but... Mom?"

Andrew started his line. Giles' heart was racing, but he wasn't sure it felt like the last time.

"Oh my baby! I missed you! Come closer, let me see you!" The face beyond the window was joined by a hand. A hand with very long nails. It pressed up against the barrier, still huge looking, longer than the face.

Una stepped forwards, and Andrew moved to stop her, but Giles stopped him. They were speaking together now, and no spell should be interrupted.

Una put her hand against the other's, against the portal.

There was a flash, and the demon's grin turned vicious, as the hand – claws out – came through. Just as large as it seemed.

Una gaped in horror as the hand swung around and hit her, batting her out of the way.

Giles and Andrew reached the end of the spell, but this time the world didn't drop away. This time there were no new lights. And this time there was no barrier.

Andrew shook his head. "Metaphor window." He darted back to the door frame, tearing the bandage off his arm. He winced and pushed his fingers over the reopened wound, dabbing blood each side of the frame. Giles joined him, copied him, mixing their blood. Andrew started the chant.

And darted back in to the room.

Giles took one step after him, then stopped. The new demon's arm was extending through the portal, a shoulder following. It had dropped all human seeming now. The skin was grey, covered in oily scales. The smile was just as wide, but now the vicious teeth were bared. It could swallow any of them whole, and as for strength, it had just casually knocked Una across the room. She was lying in a heap next to the window. And she was far more resilient than a human.

Complete the spell here and they'd be stuck in pitched battle with the thing.

Giles instead stepped back, out into the hall.

Andrew was sliding up the wall, trying to stay out of arm's reach. He finished his line, then looked at Giles. Saw where he was. He looked shocked for a moment, then his eyes narrowed, and he nodded.

Giles nodded back, and started to chant. Slowly. Giving Andrew time. As much as he could.

After all, if Andrew got stuck in there, they were both just as dead in the long run.

Andrew reached Una's side and got hold of her, getting ready to carry her cradled against his chest.

Then he saw the book. _Ralamborn's Realms_, full of warnings, and instructions. Including how to close this portal. He leaned forwards over Una and tried to reach it.

The demon's arm swung down at him, and he flinched back.

But down on the floor, it couldn't reach him.

He leaned forward again.

Giles, slowly, neared the end of his line. This time he could feel it, just as before. With a physical door to focus on the god of doors would answer. But not if Andrew didn't ask again.

Andrew stayed pressed to the floor, half covering Una, arms inching across to get at the book. He caught hold of a corner and tried to pull it closer. The demon looked down at him and screeched in frustration.

Then it looked off to the side somewhere, and hissed something.

New figures joined it. Smaller versions. Much smaller – any one of them could fit in the big one's hand.

And that hand could get through the portal.

They scrambled up, onto the arm, and out into this world.

The first one jumped on the book and sat there, hissing. Andrew flinched back, and the second one's leap narrowly missed him. He opened his mouth, and Giles winced in anticipation of a broken spell, but the first word out his mouth was a very sincere "_Janus_." Giles joined him hastily. "_Doorkeeper of the gods_." The chant uninterrupted, the god's attention drew them in.

Now all Giles could see was himself, Andrew, and the door.

After the first few rushed words Giles tried to slow the chant down, but Andrew would have none of it. He had his arms cradled against his chest, Una presumably in them, and stood up to leave with her.

Then staggered sideways as something hit him.

Three shallow wounds opened up on his shoulder, a glancing blow from the demon's claws.

"_**Accept**_," Andrew yelped, then continued more steadily, though gasping, "_This our offering, our living blood._"

They couldn't see the arm, or the smaller demons, but the threat was still there. Giles stood in the doorway and waved his knife defensively, but still felt something push past his legs.

Andrew slid along where the wall should be, moving with some difficulty. "_In our time of need_." Giles thought again how they had to protect themselves, stay mobile and somehow resolve this. He hesitated one moment, then dropped the knife and leaned inside, one hand gripping the door frame, the other reaching for Andrew.

"_Close these gates, please_." Andrew got close enough to grab. "_Bar and_..." Giles got hold of him and pulled hard, "_Lock them_!"

The spell sizzled up his side as he and Andrew fell back out into the corridor.

They lay there panting, more dizzy now than ever, as the barrier solidified and the world came back into view. Miniature demons thudded into it, hissing furiously, their displeasure muted now.

Una lay in the corridor with them, sprawled half across Andrew as he lay awkwardly on the floor.

Giles found half his back was in empty air, on the first step of the staircase. He'd forgotten where that was, precisely. They'd been lucky.

Inside the room the little demons were testing the barriers, on the door and the natural window, with no success. The largest demon seemed stuck half way through the portal, unable to get much more than a shoulder in.

For a moment Giles thought their luck was all good.

Then the demon reached down, with blood stained claws, and started drawing on the floor.

The portal started to get wider.

Giles sat up, wincing. "Oh, as usual, dear."

"What?" Andrew asked, sitting up hurriedly in alarm. He saw what the demon was doing, looked puzzled for a moment, then said "Oh." He raised his hand to poke gingerly at his injured shoulder. "Sorry."

Andrew's blood, used earlier in the ritual, easy to use now.

Giles sighed and told him, "Don't apologise. You didn't set out to be injured."

"No, I just came up with the stupid plan in the first place." Andrew sighed. He gently examined Una, then carefully lowered her to the floor, and got the first aid tin out his pocket again. He opened it, looking at the dwindling supplies. The cuts they'd made earlier were bleeding again, as well as the new wounds. "We're going to run out of bandages," he observed. Then he put the tin down and got up, slowly. "There's more in the bathroom. I'll get... Uh-oh." He'd reached the next door down, and stopped.

There was a red sheen across it.

Andrew reached for the handle, but while it poked out just a little, it wouldn't move at all. Neither would the door.

"Great. **This** time it got all of them," Andrew complained.

"All the windows the first time, all the external doors the second... I hope. Is there a back door?"

"In the kitchen. You think we should check?"

"I think I felt some of those smaller ones get out while we were casting."

"We should check." Andrew nodded. Then went pale, and slid down the wall again. "Or, we could sit here a minute."

Giles went to him quickly. Truth be told, he wasn't feeling very good himself, but the boy was more injured.

"Here, get that jacket off, I'll stop the bleeding."

Andrew fumbled with the coat while Giles checked the first aid tin. They were short on gauze and bandage, but had plenty of antiseptic left, and the butterfly things that substituted for stitches. When Giles got a clear look at the wounds he knew they were going to need them. Three long, thin cuts, not deep, but from his shoulder across to his collarbone.

"Can you keep watch while I work?" Giles asked.

"Gremlin watch. Check," Andrew said, and started looking up and down the corridor, turning his head like a security camera. While Giles worked he hissed and bit his lip, but he didn't close his eyes.

"When we're done here, we need a new plan."

"Yeah." Andrew briefly paused, looking at Una's still form. "Our Slayer is kind of out of it right now. And the window... did turn into a door. Sorry," he mumbled again, then went back to his idea of keeping watch.

"Perhaps calling the Council is in order?" Giles enquired gently. "Andrew, I didn't find my phone. Do you have yours?"

Andrew shook his head. "They're on the charger."

"And the charger is...?"

"Living room. If it's only the upstairs doors sealed, we can get to them."

Some crashing noises came from downstairs, somewhere in the hall.

"...If they're still in one piece."

Giles was almost done, at least as much as he could manage now. "There. That should hold for now. Are you feeling any better?"

"Some," Andrew said. He screwed up his face, hesitated, then admitted, "Not much. Giles, do those demons have, like, poison? I've been hit before and not felt this bad."

Giles sighed and admitted what he'd been trying not to think about. "You weren't carrying three spells at the time."

"Three blood magics." Andrew caught on fast. "This, this is how they're dangerous?"

Giles nodded. He got out the regular sticking plasters for their arms. Andrew would need two. Giles could probably get away with just one big one.

"So once we call the Council, how soon would they have to be here? I mean, to help. Before... Before the spells..."

"Bleed us to death?" Giles asked calmly. "I don't know. If it was just the one door, I'd say we had days, but with three... Perhaps until sunset. How far away is that?"

"I don't know. Hours? If you don't know how long it is..."

"Janus is a god of beginnings and endings. The end of the day, the end of us... Gods tend to the symbolic." Giles finished the first aid and got to his feet. "Shall we?"

Andrew, still looking shocky, nodded and slowly rose, pushing against the wall. He picked up his jacket and put it on again, wincing as it hit his bad shoulder. Then he pulled out his flute.

Giles looked around for his knife, and found it – sitting in the portal room, on the wrong side of the barrier.

"I don't suppose you have your tranquiliser gun on you?" Giles asked.

Andrew pointed at one of the other doors.

Giles sighed. "Right." So he had the book, some herbs, a bit of salt, and a few rather expensive pebbles. "Give me your keys."

Andrew looked puzzled. "They're not, like, magic keys. I don't think they'll open it."

Giles explained, "The key chain will do for a weapon, in a pinch."

"Oh. Right." Andrew pulled them out and passed them over. "I guess this definitely pinches," he sighed.

Giles arranged them so the keys were in his hand, pointing out through his fingers, irregular claws. The chain hung loose, and he made a few practice swings to get a feel for where it would go. Then he nodded, pushed his glasses more securely into place, and headed for the stairs.

He stepped over Una to get to them.

Andrew stopped, and rearranged her to lie closer to the wall.

Giles stopped three steps down, turned and waited for him.

Andrew gently pressed a kiss to Una's brow, then pushed the first aid tin up next to her.

"There's nothing we can do for her," Giles told him, quietly. "Not right now."

Andrew nodded. Then shook his head. "We can get the job done."

Giles nodded in reply.

Andrew gripped his flute in both hands, ready, and they set off downstairs again.

*** *** ***

They descended as quietly as they could. Two unsteady men, one in wellington boots, are not paragons of stealth, but they tried. The noises from below were intermittent, but getting louder. Banging, and crunching, and a series of crashes that had Andrew wincing.

"I hope that's not the commemorative plates," he muttered, gripping his flute more firmly.

They reached the bottom of the stairs. The barrier across the front door still held, though now there were claw marks on the floor around it.

Beside them, the living room door was open, but filled with the familiar red light. Giles could see the phone shelf just inside. But no way to get to it from here.

Andrew looked down the corridor, then ducked back quickly. "Kitchen," he hissed.

"Not sealed?" Giles asked, leaning to look.

"Corridor." Andrew shrugged. "No door on the end."

Giles stepped forward carefully, then pressed himself against the opposite wall. The corridor was not long, but it didn't give him much view of the kitchen. There was an overturned table in the doorway. That was all he could see.

He stepped forwards again.

Then dived back as a knife flew out towards him.

It thudded into the wall where he had been, and he quickly scrambled to get back behind the stairs.

The knife looked rather familiar, if slightly larger. "You bought a knife set?"

"Yeah. From Argos. Six knives in a block."

"Two upstairs, one here. Three left to throw."

"Plus the regular knives for eating with. And the forks. And..."

"So we have a problem." Giles looked at the flute, somewhat dubiously. "Can that thing work from here?"

Andrew looked a little dubious too. "Well, in theory, yeah. But I haven't looked up Dreegugze. If that's even the right name for these. There's a lot of different tunes..." Andrew caught the expression on Giles' face, and stopped whining. "But I'll try them and see."

He put the flute to his lips, and blew.

It made a sort of hissing sound. Giles wondered if it was like a dog whistle, inaudible to humans. But then Andrew, blushing, took it away and licked his lips. Then he tried again.

This time he got a note out of it. And then a tune.

The clear, quiet notes were eerie, almost beautiful. They drew your attention even amid the noise.

Which trailed off and went quiet. There was no more crashing.

Andrew looked up at Giles hopefully, and kept playing.

Giles swallowed hard, then ducked out to look at the corridor, only sticking his head out for a moment. He got only a glimpse, but he was more interested in what he didn't get. That is, attacked. There was no knife thrown.

He waited another moment, and the silence continued.

So he leaned out into the corridor again.

This time he paused there, waiting, a clear target. But nothing happened. So, reluctantly, he took a whole step.

And then another. And another.

He could see in past the table now.

The kitchen was a mess. The only doors in the place not open were the back door and the refrigerator. Every cupboard gaped wide, high and low, along with every drawer. All the contents was being systematically evicted. Little heaps of crockery shards covered the floor, and one of the little grey demons sat on a worktop with a half denuded mug tree, one mug in hand.

It sat quite still, with its head cocked to one side, those massive ears perked up.

Giles allowed himself to hope.

He gestured for Andrew to follow, and stepped forwards again.

Now he could see the counter by the door, and the knife block. He flinched back defensively when he saw the demon standing by it, but the thing just stared at him, claws resting on a knife handle, not moving.

Andrew came up beside him and saw the mess.

His face set with resolve, he kept playing, stepped forwards and kicked the table out the way.

Behind it two hissing shrieks sounded, and two little grey bodies bounded up to perch on the table leg. They bared their teeth at Andrew, and spread their claws wide. Ears, teeth, claws, and skinny grey limbs connecting it all, knee high but about as unthreatening as a pit bull. Andrew's eyes went wide and he played a little louder.

The other two demons straightened, hissed, and grinned at them, sharp teeth gleaming.

Then the one with the mug drew his arm back and threw it at Andrew.

Giles swung immediately, punching at the knife block demon with his clawed fist. It dodged back, but pulled a knife in the process. The biggest one, of course. The demon held it over its head, almost doubling its height, and Giles swung back the chain to try and disarm him.

But then a demon from the table jumped on him, claws digging into his long coat, climbing up.

"Andrew, its not working!" Giles yelled, somewhat redundantly.

Andrew had one of the demons chasing him the few steps around each side of the kitchen. It moved in leisurely bounds, swiping at the boy's heels whenever he slowed down. The one with the mug tree had the last mug in hand, and waved the wooden stand in little circles in the air.

Andrew kept on changing the tune, but so far the miniature demons were not slowed down by it, much less controlled. They seemed to rather enjoy the musical accompaniment, bouncing in time and cackling with screeching laughter.

Giles had got the key chain spinning in a circle, getting a little momentum and using it as a shield against the knife wielder, who was so far looking on with interest. The other demon, the one climbing up the side of his coat, he batted at with his empty hand, but it just tucked in and dug its claws into the thick fabric. Finally he had to risk dropping his defence and using the keychain. He swung it round at the demon just as the thing looked up to hiss, and the chain wrapped neatly around it, much to its surprise. He yanked hard and ripped it off his coat, then dodged and swung wildly as the knife wielder ran up and joined the fight. With excellent timing, it managed to skewer its fellow with the carving knife, which then whipped out of its reach as the chain completed its arc. The impaled demon flew off to land in a corner somewhere. Giles grabbed for the knife block, but so did the demon, and they came away with one knife apiece.

Andrew kept on playing, the notes now nothing Giles would call a tune, but having no special expertise in this style of magic he had no idea if they were getting closer to useful. He found his full attention taken up fencing with the foot tall demon on the worktop in front of him. The little bastard was too fast and strong to ignore for even a moment. Giles just had to hope Andrew could cope with his two on his own.

Giles used the chain to whip the knife block off the counter, and after that the little demon kept on backing away. Giles kept after it, not daring to give it room to throw the knife again. But that meant closing in on the corner, and the other demon, the one with the mug tree.

Well that didn't have to be a problem.

Giles stepped sideways, Andrew dodging out of his way, and whipped the keychain at the encumbered demon. It dropped the wood to get out of the way but didn't jump far enough, and got swept off the counter. The little grey demon grabbed on to the bundle of key fobs on its end of the chain and hung on for dear life, as Giles used the increased mass to good effect as a somewhat unwieldy mace. The knife wielder, learning from experience, got the blade out of the way, trying not to impale anything this time. That left the one on the keychain to thud into the kitchen worktop, then the wall, mouth wide open and screeching, claws tangled in the ornaments. But the knife carrier dodged vertically, bounding up into the open cabinets above, and then turned, knife raised to throw.

And stopped.

As did the screeching from the end of the keychain.

Behind Giles, Andrew kept playing those same few notes over and over, and then there was a quiet little crunchy squish.

The chained demon lost its grip and flew off across the kitchen, hitting the wall with a similar wet crunch. Giles ignored it for just long enough to knock the knife out the last demon's claws, and run it through.

He turned to face Andrew with the little grey thing still stuck on the knife, dripping thin slime.

Andrew raised his foot off the remains of a demon, still playing his flute, and looked around.

The kitchen was still. Three variously broken demons were in plain sight, and nothing else moved.

Andrew grinned, and stopped playing, then slumped back against the worktop, panting.

"Found it," he said, breathless but triumphant.

"Yes. Good timing," Giles told him. He shook the vicious little bundle of claws off the knife he was holding, then went in search of the other blades.

And heard a thin wail from behind the upturned table.

He paused, checked his weapons, and moved cautiously towards the noise.

It sounded like... like something that shouldn't be here at all. A high, hurt noise that humans were wired to not ignore.

Giles, very cautiously, pulled the table out of the way.

And revealed a small, naked, human baby.

"...Andrew? Do you know anything about this?" Giles asked.

Andrew looked shocked, and stepped over quickly, but then his eyes narrowed. "Watcher's first lesson..." he said. He raised the flute and played the Dreegugze taming tune, just the once. But that was enough. Stilled by the magic, the little demon dropped the seeming, and looked like its slimy grey self again.

This was the fourth demon, the one that he'd sent flying. Injured, but not out for the count.

Andrew lowered the flute again, and again the demon took up baby form and started crying.

Andrew looked vaguely sick.

He gripped the flute in both hands by one end, then stabbed down, hard.

The crying stopped.

"I can **so** see which is real," Andrew muttered. But he gulped hard, and turned away quickly.

"Andrew!"

Giles and Andrew both turned, to see Una leaning against the wall in the corridor.

"Una! You're okay!" Andrew exclaimed.

But Una shook her head slowly, and as she came forwards they could see she was crying. She dropped to her knees next to the still, crushed form.

"How could you!" She sobbed. She reached out to the little body and picked it up, carefully.

Giles backed away, and found another knife.

"Una?" Andrew asked. "What's wrong... Didn't you see? It wasn't a baby. Just a demon."

Una looked up at him and hissed. "Just. Just a demon." She bared her pointed teeth, pulled the dead demon close and got up again. "So speaks the Council Watcher."

"Una..."

"I thought you were different! You said you'd help!"

"I will! Una, they tried to kill us!"

"You think? And yet, here you stand, barely scratched. They didn't hurt you! Maybe they didn't mean to hurt you! Maybe they were just playing! Did you even stop to think of that?"

"Una, they're invading from a hell dimension! They threw knives at us! We can't afford to think they might be playing. They have their fun, you get dead! Everyone gets dead! We have to stop them."

"**We** do."

"Yes. Watchers and Slayers. That's what we do."

Una looked down at the little broken demon in her hands. She was still crying. "I don't want to." She looked up again. "I don't want to do this! I'm not a Slayer! I just wanted to go home!"

"Una, you're a Slayer, you're a real Slayer!" Andrew said, almost panicky, stepping towards her. "You're a hero, and I'm your Watcher, and we're going to save the world!"

"Not like this!" Una shook her head and backed off as he approached. "Not like this!" She turned and fled.

"Una!" Andrew called out, and took off after her.

Giles swore.

He looked around quickly. Red light covered the back door, the window, and another internal door, wherever that led. The house was secure. So he ran after Andrew, a knife in each hand.

He found him on the upstairs landing, pounding on the sealed rooms.

"Una! Una! Where'd you go? How did you... Una! Come back! You are too a Slayer! And I'm a Watcher! You'll see!"

Andrew was actually crying. Giles paused, looked around, then back down the way they'd come. Nothing, no one, no movement. If Una wasn't up here then she had somehow vanished. Giles swore under his breath and wished he had his books with him. Dreegugze had powers, that much was clear, but exactly what were they? If they could be invisible they had a large problem. If they could get out somehow, the whole world had a larger one.

But Andrew was just pacing up and down the corridor, working himself into hysterics.

"It's not fair," Andrew wailed. "I worked for the Council. I was good at it! First contact. Telling the epic tale of the Slayer of Vampyrs. I can do that! But then they tell me off for 'raising unrealistic expectations'. And Buffy went around telling everybody to ignore me. How am I supposed to do my work if she keeps saying that? She's just mad at me because of the whole Immortal thing, and Spike and Angel, and I only told them what she told me, and how is it my fault if she wasn't telling me everything? And now **nobody** wants to work with me. Even Una! She was my last hope!"

"Andrew, I know it's hard, but it's hardly our most pressing problem," Giles replied.

"How can you say that? It's what it's all about! Watchers help Slayers to save the world. How are we supposed to do this without a Slayer?"

"My Father dealt with this exact situation, alone, with no Slayer and no support from the Council. We can do the same," Giles assured him. Though privately he had to admit that his Father's journal had only mentioned a handful of demons, not the veritable horde that was now pouring in to the portal room.

Andrew didn't seem to hear him, looking away and sobbing, "They all said I couldn't do this. They can't be right, they can't be..."

"We can do this. We are Watchers..."

"Not any more," Andrew interrupted. "Not ever, not according to the Council." He looked back at Giles and corrected himself. "I mean, you were. You helped Buffy. Me? I tell everyone I did." He wiped at his face angrily. "They never believe me. Never. Not about _Star Trek_, not about Spike coming back, and not about Una. Because I tell stories. I tell lies. Just ask Wyndam-Pryce."

"What? What has he got to do with any of this?"

"He's the one who fired me!"

Giles stared at Andrew. "You've been fired?" He really must get back to reading his memos.

"Demoted, suspended, fired." Andrew sniffed. "Wesley said the first lesson a Watcher learns is to separate truth from illusion. If I didn't know how to do that yet then I wasn't even as much of a Watcher as those kids in the Academy. So they sent me back there." Andrew wiped his face angrily. "But I can't just sit around in school, Giles! I have to be out here, doing good! Helping the Slayer, and helping the world, and... and being a good guy. Giles, I have to be a good guy, now. They don't understand!"

"I'm not sure I do either," Giles admitted.

"I **have** to be, because if I'm not... If I'm not a Watcher, if I'm not good enough, then all I am is just... Andrew. Tucker's brother. The guy with the flying monkeys, and the crime spree, and the... the Seal and the knife. If I'm not a Watcher..." Andrew was crying again now, talking through tears, "Then I'm just the guy who killed his best friend."

Then Andrew broke down completely, sobbing, uncontrollably. Giles made a move towards him, but he spun away, pressed his face into a wall and hid there.

Giles turned, trying to give him some privacy. But he had to keep an eye on the stairs, the corridor, and the door to the portal room. He could still see him.

And they did not have time for this.

"Andrew..." Giles began, but trailed off awkwardly. What could he say? He knew damn well there wasn't anything that could make that better.

But there had to be something to get the boy functional again, at least for long enough.

"Andrew... I'm sorry. I sympathise. But... Right now, we have a larger problem." Giles turned to look at him more directly again. "These demons... There's already dozens of them in there. And the portal... I rather think it is large enough for even that giant to get through. It's probably only waiting to see if there's any point. We have to do something. Soon."

Andrew turned, still slumped against the wall, with one arm across his face, his nose pinched in the bend. He sniffed, still crying, but slightly calmer now. "Right. Okay." He sniffed again. "Alright..." He paused for thought, then asked, "There were three spells, right? We can drop just one, and not the others?"

"Yes. Windows, external doors, internal doors."

"So, we killed all the demons that got out of the room... We can open the front door. Then you can go and get help."

Giles looked out the window at the end of the corridor. Through the red tint it was hard to tell, but it might have been getting darker. "Are you sure there's time? Sunset..."

"Won't be a problem." Andrew wiped his eyes on his sleeve, then dropped his arm. He stared at the opposite wall, not looking at Giles. "You go for help, and I'll stay here, and... Watch." He gulped, then he blinked, and looked down at the flute. He held it up and waved it. "If they get out I've got this. I've got a better chance here."

The plan sounded quite reasonable. But Giles had a suspicion. A very bad one.

"Right. You'll watch. And if I'm not back by sunset? We could both die."

"No." Andrew shook his head, and looked at Giles. He said, calmly, "Not both."

"Andrew, no," Giles replied immediately, but Andrew interrupted.

"You said it yourself. One of us dies, the walls stay up for years." Andrew became more animated, getting worked up again. "If the spells drain us, same thing, right? Only you'd die too. And this wasn't your fault."

"There are a lot of other things we could try first."

"Oh yeah? Name two."

"Try to close the portal."

Andrew glanced at the demons in the portal room, currently pushing against the barrier, and looking on with interest. He got closer to Giles and turned to face the other wall, talking quietly. "We'd need the book, right?"

"Yes." Giles said, doing the same.

"Which is in there, with the demons."

"Demons you can control."

Andrew shook his head. "A couple of little ones, maybe, but all those? I'm nearly wiped out already from all the magic. If they got free while you were in there... I don't want you to die! Not because of me." Andrew was getting louder again.

"Oddly enough I don't want **you** to die either!"

Andrew shook his head. "I thought I'd die in Sunnydale. I probably should have. Now I've just messed up again. But I can fix this. You've just got to get out of here, and I'll do the rest."

"Absolutely not! As senior Watcher I am ordering you..."

"You can't, Giles. I'm not a Watcher any more. I'm not allowed to be. But I can die like one."

"Andrew, Watchers die like everyone else. That is not the hard part. If you truly want to make something of yourself, you have to **live** like one."

Andrew started crying again. "I can't! Giles, they won't let me. I've tried, but they don't even see it. They just see that guy."

"In time, they'll see past that."

"How could they? It's unforgivable! Giles, just give me the knife and go." Andrew said, reaching for the blade.

Giles backed off, but Andrew followed and grabbed for the knives. Giles switched both to his left hand and used the other, the one with the keys, to get hold of Andrew. The boy twisted out of the way and he ended up grabbing the claw marked shoulder. He yelped and flinched back, but only for a moment. He was determined to get those knives, and in the confines of the corridor Giles wasn't sure he could keep them out of his reach. So he cast them away, and they fell down the stairs with a clatter.

Andrew tried to lunge past, but Giles grabbed his other shoulder and held him firmly.

"Andrew. Andrew!" Giles yelled at him, to no effect. "Look at me!" Giles commanded.

Andrew just twisted, trying to break his grip, and told him, "No! This is the only way! I won't be that guy any more!"

"Listen to me! You are that man. You killed him, and you will never get away from that." Andrew froze, then looked away. He pulled against his grip, but Giles pulled him back. "I know. It's been thirty years and I am still that man."

Andrew's jaw dropped, gaping in shock, and he squeaked, "You...?!"

"Summoned demons for pleasure and gain. Worked dark magic, with friends, who died because of it. One of them at my hands." Giles kept hold of Andrew, making sure he had his full attention. He went on, "The Council knew of it. My entire career with them came later. After I realised... What a fool I had been. If they can forgive me, they can certainly forgive you."

Andrew didn't so much relax as unravel. He slumped back, and Giles let him, so he slid against the wall.

"You...?" Andrew couldn't seem to get past that word. "You. You..."

Giles grit his teeth, and tried not to think about it too hard. Surely after all this time it shouldn't feel quite so much like reopening a wound?

"Andrew..." he began, then straightened sharply, staring down the corridor.

Past the window dropped a figure, humanoid and female – Una, dropping from a hole in the ceiling he hadn't noticed before. In her left hand was a baseball bat, over her shoulder his sword, and in her right hand...

Giles held very still, looking at her. And at the business end of a gun.

Una said, "And this... this you trusted?"

Andrew straightened slowly, and did not get in the way.


	4. Chapter 4

"Una!" Andrew said, with great relief. "Thank Yoda! You're okay!"

Una glanced at him, briefly, then went back to staring at Giles.

Giles kept his eyes on her. He was conscious of the stairs at his back, and weighed his options. On the one hand, it would be hard to get down them safely in a hurry. On the other, it would be easy to get down far enough to be out of the line of fire, albeit with anything from bruises to a broken neck. If Una pulled the trigger, he would likely be dead anyway, even if that was the tranquiliser gun.

But she might not know that.

"Una... You should be aware. Andrew has a time limit here, and he needs me alive and awake if he wants to survive," Giles told her.

"It's true," Andrew chimed in. "We did magic..."

"I noticed. Blocked all the doors and windows. Without asking me. Was it to keep me in? Were you that afraid I'd leave you, Andrew?"

"It wasn't like that. Magic is quirky, it just does stuff... Not that I want you to leave me. I'm... glad you didn't..." Andrew trailed off.

"Well you gave me so many choices." Una said mockingly, then shook her head. "'Come with me and you'll be with people like you. Come with me and I'll help you, fix you. Come with me and we'll find where you come from.'" She grimaced and barked a humourless laugh. "Ha! I guess one out of three isn't bad." She looked at Andrew, but kept the gun on Giles. "You took me in, you told me everything would be okay. You made me think you cared! But this is all about you, isn't it? What you need me to be. Well I'm not playing this your way any more."

Andrew looked like she'd dropped a bomb on him, and wobbled against the wall again.

"Una, I realise you've had a bad experience with the Council," Giles told her. "But I do believe Andrew has done his best by you." Andrew threw him a very grateful look, with some surprise.

Giles kept looking at Una, and continued, "We all have our reasons, pasts that make us get involved in this kind of work. As you chose to get involved." Giles looked away now, at the portal room beside him, filling up with mini demons, still pounding on the barriers. He said, "I'm told you took the Slayer oath." He looked back at her.

She nodded, slowly, glancing at that room too.

"So we here are all sworn to protect this world."

"I didn't know. I didn't know it would be like this! I just wanted somewhere to belong!"

Giles blinked and nodded slowly. But it was Andrew who spoke.

"I know, Una."

She looked at him, and he continued.

"I know what that's like, and I know how far you can go... How far I used to go... Just to have somewhere. To be with people like you. But you have to decide, who do you want to be like?"

Now he stepped forwards, slowly, mostly getting between Giles and the gun. He gestured broadly at that end of the corridor.

"Maybe that is where you come from. But you don't have to stay there. Maybe... maybe part of you is like that. But you can be more." His voice wobbled, and so did he, as he stepped slowly towards her. "I know you can. Really. Wouldn't you rather be a hero?"

Slowly, Una's gun hand sagged, and some of the tension went out of her. She looked down, then up at Giles, her face just full of confusion.

Then she snapped the gun up again, face set and determined. "Down!" She yelled, and Andrew dropped immediately.

Giles was only slightly slower, but he still felt the claws catch in the back of his coat before she had a clear shot.

The tranq gun made the usual _pfft_ and thudded into something behind him, something that seemed considerably heavier than the small demons they'd been fighting. Giles rolled and scrambled to get away, pushing it into the barrier and himself into the opposite wall. It swiped at him once more, shreds of coat fabric on its claws, but then it went still. Slumped down in a heap, its frustrated brethren jumping up and down and hissing loudly at it from behind the red light.

"How the hell did we miss that one?" Giles exclaimed, breathing hard from the surprise.

"Una, thank you, you saved our lives!" Andrew said, with much emphasis.

Giles looked up and blinked. "Ah, yes, thank you, Una." He pushed up against the wall and got to his feet. "I'm not sure the coat could have stopped another strike. Even the reinforcements are rather worn by now." He grimaced at the damage, but remained undamaged himself.

Una came over to look at the downed demon. It looked like a stretched out version of the smaller demons, but with a grossly distended belly where they had only skin and bone. She looked up past it, at the mini demons, and at the large one beyond the portal. The one she had called mother.

Then she sighed, and turned her back on them.

"I'm still not going to kill them," she told Andrew. "Not on purpose. I thought we could just knock them all out. Except this thing is empty." She tossed Andrew the gun, who caught it awkwardly and checked it over by habit, then holstered it inside his jacket.

She also pulled off the sword. She stared at it a long moment, then held it out to Giles. "Here. But... not if you don't have to, okay? Not if there's another way."

Giles nodded, and accepted the weapon, settling it across his back. The key chain, now an encumbrance, he gave back to Andrew.

Andrew pocketed it absently, looking at the bat and sword. "How did you get these anyway? I thought I left them in my room."

"Oh you did. I just broke through the ceiling a couple of times. It's pretty easy."

From the doorway behind her came a sudden silence, all the demons freezing in place. Then they turned to face their Mother, who hissed some command at them. And the whole room broke into cackling glee.

"Oh **Hell**," Giles swore. Beside him, Andrew had turned white.

In the portal room, demons started leaping for the ceiling, swiping at it with sharp little claws.

"Andrew, plan B, **now**," Giles said, pulling the _Doors_ book from his pocket. He flicked to the unlocking incantation and showed Andrew.

"Una, we're going in," Andrew said. "I'll play this, you clear the way and keep them off Giles, okay?" He went to stand on the left of the door and touched the doorpost with one hand, the other holding his flute ready.

Una looked bleak, but nodded. She looked at her bat, and the mass of demons within. Then she looked down at the larger one currently blocking the door, and got a wicked grin. She grabbed it by wrists and ankles, picked it up, and started to swing. "I'll make a hole," she promised.

Giles pocketed the book, pulled his sword with his left hand, and with his right touched the right doorpost.

Inside, the demons, too small to reach the ceiling just by jumping, were discovering cooperation, throwing each other up.

Giles and Andrew spoke their bit of Latin. "_Janus, we give thanks. Let the way be open_." Janus heard and obliged. The red light winked out, and the barrier was down.

Past the two Watchers flew the knocked out demon, knocking numerous smaller versions out the way. It landed next to the portal, and a giant arm came through to scoop it up and pull it back in. Then the assembled demons turned towards the door and charged.

Andrew brought flute to lips and started to play.

The whole room slowed.

Giles held his breath, hoping.

Una stepped past him, and with the baseball bat she flicked the mini demons back to their Mother, treading carefully and kicking slowly to make space.

Giles stepped inside, and started sliding the wall to get to the far window. With all these demons here he couldn't see it any more, but that was where they'd left the book. Like many portal keys it was tied to their dimension, so it should still be in the room... somewhere.

Andrew leaned against the door frame behind him, stared at Una, and kept playing.

Now the little demons dropped off the ceiling, control lost, and the ones on the floor started shuffling away from Giles, towards the giant beyond the gate.

Una shuffled along behind them, no longer hitting anything.

Giles thought he saw the book, revealed next to the window frame. Right where Andrew dropped it. But Andrew had been clawed by that long arm. The arm that was now reaching through and waving at the little demons, as the Mother hissed and screeched at them. It was still mobile, unaffected in its own world. He could only hope it would remain distracted long enough for him to act.

Giles slid the wall right to the corner, then stepped forward and bent down for the book.

Andrew stopped playing.

"Una! Come back!" he called to her.

Una stood still and blinked dizzily.

The little demons around her hissed, and turned to face Giles.

"Andrew!" he barked, and the boy started playing again. He grabbed the book and straightened up, then saw movement from the portal and threw himself forward at the far corner, away from the portal and effectively behind it. The arm lashed out, behind him, unable to reach.

But now he was trapped, every demon in the room between him and the way out.

The demons were no longer moving to the portal. Some of them were looking at him. They twitched and started reaching out in his direction.

Giles got the sword ready.

And Andrew stopped playing again.

Giles swore as the demons rushed him.

"Una, get out! I can't do this to you!" Andrew called out.

Una darted to the back wall and swung her bat with a will. She yelled at Andrew. "Play! We have to fix this!"

Andrew was fighting too now, kicking back one demon, another on its way. "Not and lose you!"

"We protect the world, Andrew! Even from things like me!" She hissed, and bared her pointed teeth.

But he still hesitated. And now a grey demon was grappling for the flute.

Giles had no room to maneuver. The demons didn't like the blade, but it wouldn't be long before one got through.

"Andrew! I need time!" Giles yelled at him.

And Una pushed away.

She crossed the room again, moving demon fast, and grabbed the demon that had hold of the flute. She threw it back at the portal, knocking others out the way with the bat. Then she grabbed Andrew's hands and brought the flute up to his mouth.

"Play." She ordered, pulled him down, and kissed him on the forehead.

Then she dived in to the mass of demons right in front of the gate.

Too many, even for her, she was swarmed instantly. And Andrew had no choice.

He raised the flute again, and again started to play.

Straight away Giles got the breathing space he needed. He sheathed the sword, needing both hands for the book. And now he had to search his memory, draw on his training, and try and remember the names of the Dreegugze worlds.

Andrew wobbled and ended up leaning against the door frame.

Giles found the right page, quickly found the window incantation, then paged through looking for the way to close it.

Andrew started to slide down the door. The tune changed, just a little, and the demons started to move towards the portal again. The little ones started to jump back through, and on the floor, Una was gradually revealed again.

Spell found, Giles pulled components from his pockets. Salt for cleansing, no surprise. He threw it at the blood on the floor with a whispered word and the blood started to fade. Herbs now, and a stone from their realm. A chunk of quartz would do, and the herbs were in his top right pocket. These had to go in the opened door, and he skirted the wall again quickly to get a good angle.

The arm reached out at him once more, but hampered by the returning little ones it didn't hit.

A few words in Greek over the herbs, and something said to the stone that sounded like nonsense but he could feel the power of.

Nearly all the demons were gone now, and Andrew was left sitting on the floor, his music slowing but not stopped.

Una pushed herself up, wobbling. She was bleeding, vivid red.

She used her club as a prop, and looked up through the portal as the last few little demons left.

"Una. **My** baby," the Mother demon hissed from beyond. And the arm reached out and snatched her up.

"No!" Andrew called, dropping the flute.

But Giles, spell gathering and more than half done, could not hesitate. Una vanished into the demon's dark world. Giles said the last necessary words, and threw the stone in after her. "_Seal_!"

And the portal did.

The room filled with a brilliant flash, momentarily blinding them both, and when it was gone, it took all trace of magic with it.

The walls did not shake. The floor did not tremble. There was no portal in the house any more.

"Una..." Andrew whispered, lost, and quiet.

*** *** ***

Giles walked over to him, bone tired. He looked down at the book, then closed it, and dropped it in his pocket.

Andrew kept staring at what wasn't there.

Giles offered, quietly, "She will be remembered."

It wasn't enough. He knew very well, there wasn't anything that could make this better.

But they didn't have time.

"Come on," Giles said, offering a hand. "We still have two spells to unlock. Before either one of us drops."

Andrew blinked a few times, then took the hand and let himself be pulled up.

The flute rolled away. He made no attempt to pick it up again.

Back in the bedroom where Giles first woke up, he steered Andrew over to the window frame, and held the book out for the both of them to read from. The spell came down with little fanfare, and Giles sighed with relief as the magical drain was halved.

Still one spell left to go.

Andrew was now only responding to physical prompts, apparently oblivious to words, so Giles kept a hand on his shoulder and pushed him gently down the hall. When they got to the stairs, Andrew slipped, and Giles had to grab him one handed. He kept an arm around him as best he could, and they went down together.

At the front door Giles hesitated. He really should check the rest of the house.

"Andrew, will you be okay for a minute?" he asked. Then again, after a moment, "Andrew?"

Andrew blinked slowly, then focused on Giles. "Yeah... **One** minute. I'm... kind of wiped." He leaned against the front door, pushing aside Giles' helping hand.

Giles looked at him with some concern, then turned and hurried down the corridor. He grabbed the knife out of the wall on the way past. He hoped there were no more demons left, but even tired as he was he couldn't afford to take risks.

The kitchen was entirely wrecked. The table was broken in half now, and the fridge gaped open. Inside there were scraps of red meat, and one organ Giles would rather not identify, probably from the butcher's shop. On the floor were scraps of shed skin, as well as the broken remains of the demons they had fought. But there were no more hiding places, and the window remained closed.

He came back by way of the connecting door. It led to a dining room, and from there to the living room, both only as wrecked as he'd expect from a house Andrew lived in. Their mobile phones were on the table by the front door. Giles dropped the knife and scooped them up, then rejoined Andrew.

"All clear. Here." He held out Andrew's phone, and waited as Andrew's slowed reactions caught up.

Andrew took the phone, then turned, and touched one side of the door. "I'll... need to see the words again," he said, voice slower than actions.

"Last time," Giles reassured him. "Then you can rest." He got _Doors_ out, turned to the right page, and together they read.

"_Janus, we give thanks. Let the way be open_."

One last time, Janus heard and obliged... though perhaps more slowly. Giles made mental note to not try this again soon. Janus was too duplex to risk annoying, or giving claims on them. They always risked attracting his dolorous aspect.

Though the events of this day had surely been two faced and double edged enough to satisfy.

Giles sighed, and put the book away.

Behind him, he heard a soft thud. He turned, and saw Andrew sitting on the stairs. He looked utterly exhausted. And no wonder – however much magic the flute had of itself, Andrew's own power moved through it to work his will. Between them they'd done more work than Giles had since leaving Sunnydale.

Plus, of course, he'd opened the portal in the first place. And presumably been awake through all the hours Giles spent chained to the bed.

Giles got his phone out, and fiddled with the menus looking for the right number. "I'll call a Council team in. They'll clean up here..."

"No," Andrew said, indistinctly. He blinked, then focused on Giles, and spoke more clearly. "No. I'll do it. This was... mine. All of it. I can finish it."

"You sure?" Giles asked. "You look..."

"Fine. I'll be fine," Andrew said, somewhat unconvincing in his torn clothes, slumped unmoving on the steps. But he was insistent. "The house will be fine. I'll do it."

Giles measured him with a look, then nodded. "All right." He could send a team later, if necessary. But he didn't think he would.

Andrew nodded slightly too, then went unfocused again.

Giles changed numbers, and called a taxi, getting the address off a letter. There was no way he was walking home in this state.

The taxi company was used to him. A few words, and they'd send someone who wouldn't have a problem with the weapons. Or the blood.

Perhaps he should stop off at the hospital first.

Suddenly rather unsteady himself, Giles took a seat in the living room, and waited.

Minutes ticked by, and he allowed himself to simply do nothing for this little while.

When the taxi pulled up outside, he pulled himself to his feet, and went wearily to the front door.

"Bye," Andrew told him, in a small unsteady voice.

Giles turned to look at him.

Andrew sat exactly as he had when he'd dropped there, propped arms on knees, tilted slightly to one side.

He was crying again.

No big drama this time. Just tears. Falling in a steady trickle down his wet face.

His eyes stared off into the distance, unfocused.

He looked utterly lost.

Giles looked at him, his expression both frustrated and kind.

He might have made this mess, but knowing that, there was no need to leave him in it.

Giles reached out a hand, and spoke softly to the young man.

"Come on. We'll get you looked after."

Andrew, slowly, looked up at him, then reached out and hauled himself up.

They walked out the door together, into the grey afternoon.

*** END ***

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Joss told us to "Write fan fic."  
> So they're still his toys, but he seems to not mind us playing with them.  
> No money, no harm.
> 
> Thanks to [info]pinkdormouse for beta.


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